Snuff
He just watched as she bled out on the floor, face showing no emotion. He watched as the man pulled out of her, still dripping, and closed the straight razor. He continued to watch until the screen went black, then he shook his head. None of the display had phased him, the sex did nothing to arouse him, the murder did nothing to anger him. A look of complete neutrality on his face, devoid of anything that would resemble human emotion. He lit up a cigarette with a lighter that read "I'd kill for a body like yours... In my trunk!" Exhaling smoke through his nose, his head shook from side to side slowly.
"No use to me."
The man behind him stood arms crossed over a barrel chest. Displeasure played across his dark features. Spinning in the chair, the connoisseur looked up to his accomplice, holding up a hand. Rings adorned every finger, all four of them. There was no middle finger.
"Told you last time, I got no use for it if you can see the face. Use a hood or something, next time."
The larger male nodded, arms uncrossing and revealing twin tattoos of Betty Paige, one on the inside of each forearm. He'd say nothing for a long moment, before motioning towards a disc on the connoisseur's desk.
"And that one?"
The connoisseur turned back in his chair, ejecting the first disc and replacing it with the second. In a few moments, the screen jumped to life, showing a girl strapped to a chair. Young, not any older than a high school junior. A hood with a hole in it covered her head. The connoisseur merely smiled, the first show of emotion, as a male walked into frame, a revolver in one hand, and a stun gun in the other. Twin Betty Paige tattoos were easily visible. A few moments of baseline depravity followed, as the girl was forced to fellate the male through the hole in the hood. No attempt at hiding the noise of her crying and his grunting was even attempted. The connoisseur's smile widened as his accomplice put the stun gun to the female's vagina, causing her to seize up.
This went on for several minutes, culminating with the male spilling his seed on the girl's breasts. Then, in a final moment analogous to an orgasm, the male aimed the gun at the female's head, and pulled the trigger. After a zoom in on the grisly exit wound, the picture went to black. The tattooed man would take a step forward.
"Well?"
The connoisseur merely turned in his chair and grinned.
"I'll give you fifty large."
The tattooed man would nod, grinning. As the connoisseur turned back in his chair, the muzzle of a gun was pressed against the back of his head. Without hesitation, the trigger was pulled. After a zoom in on the exit wound, the screen faded to black.