[Auctioneer]
Greetings!
Welcome to the Sweet Mercy Web Auction! I hope everyone is having a wonderful night â or day, pending your time zone. Thank you for joining us! Please, do not be alarmed by our costumes â itâs important to conceal our identities in order to continue helping good people like yourselves. Here, at Sweet Mercy, we know youâve been through hell, and I wonât waste your time by beating around the bush; our Product is killers. Our goal is to provide a semblance of closure to families who have suffered the ultimate tragedy. When a murderer is released on a technicality or police drop the ball â thatâs where we come in. Once our investigators confirm the accused is guilty â our extraction team transports them to one of our secure facilities.
We eliminate the risk of unanswered questions by ensuring full, legitimate confessions are made beforehand, but donât take my word for it â the complete series of interrogations is available for download at no cost to our special Guests. They make fantastic therapy aids!
Now, let me give you a quick rundown on site navigation. Obviously, our main video feed is in the center; the row of blue boxes beneath are you â our Guests â and the green row above it features an equal number of our returning Benefactors. On the right-hand side of your screen is where the bidding history will appear, and on the left youâll see tonightâs Product along with his background information; he can see and hear us, too, haha. We find many Guests wish to confront them directly.
We understand most of you are unable to afford the auction, but we believe the victimâs families have a right to be here. Not only will each of you have free access to the winning Benefactorâs live-feed Saturday night â one lucky family will even be allowed to participate!
Ahh, that got you sitting a little straighter! You will each have a chance to tell us your story, and at the end there will be a short break while the Benefactors choose who they wish to sponsor; if your Benefactor has the highest bid â you get to visit our operation in person! Pun absolutely intended!
Tonight, we have thirty-four-year-old Carl Anthony Bateman. He was born in Boston, had an abusive childhood until leaving home at seventeen, and has been a burden on society ever since.
Between June and December of 2019, he brutally attacked four women. Tonight â two of those four women have families here to confront their killer, and our third Guest actually survived her terrifying ordeal!
Batemanâs first victim was Julie Edwards; she had just finished her Sophomore year of college. Benefactors, letâs hear what her parents have to say! Helen, Lawrence â you may begin when ready.
âââââââââââ
[Lawrence Edwards]
Umm, h-hello; I wonât pretend to understand any of this âdark webâ mumbo⊠It took us four hours just to get this weird browser working. Last month, if someone had told me Iâd be sittinâ on this thing bawling my story out to people wearing tribal masks â well⊠shit. Just listen to that sentence⊠But itâs worth every second to see that sorry som-bitch get his. Looks like heâs had a rough go of it, and we thank ya for thatâŠ
We thought your invitation was a scam â it sounds like the plot of some twisted movie, but I wouldnât know how to tell one way or another. It certainly looks real, and right now maybe thatâs enough⊠so long as you arenât asking for money⊠I donât think Helen is up to saying very much, but I can speak for the both of us when it comes to seeinâ that bastard pay.
Iâm glad heâs watching. Do you have anything to say, Bateman?!⊠No?⊠I didnât think so⊠Hell, I wanted you taken alive so I could say something to you in court, but this is even better. Late at night, when we wish we had died with our baby â your suffering is what will lull us to sleep, and Iâd love to be the one making you pay.
Weâre from Tennessee; Julie was in Boston for college. We wanted her to come home for the summer, but she wanted to work and rent an apartment with one of her friends. Her roommate, Erin, was with her for part of that last night⊠June 14, 2019 was a Friday; they had gone to some bar with a few other girls⊠Apparently, they went there pretty often â their Instant Gram things were full oâ the place.
As the night went on, Julieâs so-called-friends left with various boys, and no one felt the need to make sure my daughter got home safely. I suppose thatâs where this shitbag saw herâ
[Auctioneer]
Iâm sorry to interrupt, sir, but according to our interrogations, you were misinformed on that detail. By Mr. Batemanâs own admission, he first saw Ms. Julie leaving campus two weeks prior to the night in question.
[Lawrence Edwards]
Guess I shouldnât be surprised; those detectives certainly werenât right about much. They couldnât even collect the god-damn evidence without contaminating our only chance of finding the bastard. I imagine weâve been told plenty of easy answers; why should police work for the truth when itâs usually the same story anyway? They donât care what really happened â they only care what time they go home at night. Iâm sorry if that ruffles any feathers; I know thereâs good ones out there, but none of âem were working Julieâs case â that much is certain.
It was past midnight when cameras showed Jules leaving the bar. She preferred walking â her apartment was only a few blocks away⊠though, I suppose that part doesnât matter if he already knew where she lived. The police said there was no forced entry⊠do you know how he got inside, sir?
[Auctioneer]
He was able to make a copy of her key; Bateman entered the apartment shortly after their departure and hid inside the coat closet. It was his third time doing so, but Ms. Edwards wasnât alone when she returned on the previous occasions. Once everyone was asleep, he was able to leave undetected.
[Lawrence Edwards]
Sick piece-of-shit!âŠ
How can you be sure he was tellinâ the truth ?
[Auctioneer]
Oh, he started with plenty of lies â they all do. Most information gathered during torture is false, but weâve perfected our technique. While yes, our Guests enjoy seeing them suffer â it also breaks their spirit so theyâre easier to manipulate when the real interrogations begin. We spare no expense to create a believable environment for the Product to thinkâ Well, Iâm not allowed to say that partâŠ
Youâve probably seen a version of âtruth serumâ on tv, but real life is a little different; very specific conditions must be met for reliable results. We have a wonderful team of Psychologists and Physicians who explain it much more elegantly in the full video, and â at the end â they present you with a full, factual report. I assure you Mr. Edwards â I would never repeat anything that was less than 100% certain.
[Lawrence Edwards]
I think I understood most of that; so far youâve been more reliable than the police, anyway. Iâm sure weâll be watching that video as soon as this is over⊠but as for what happened next⊠I, umm⊠whew, I donât know if I can, uh⊠Julie was just such a sweet girlâŠ
Why her? Huh, bastard â why her?! The autopsy report paints a detailed picture, but Iâm starting to realize I didnât know as much as I thought. Iâm not sure if I can handle more, but I owe it to my baby to listen. She didnât deserve this, and she sure as shit didnât deserve to die alone. I want everyone to know what this pile of human waste did to get his rocks off; if it were up to me, I would make him feel exactly what his victims felt â step by step â stopping just before it killed him so I could do it over and over. Yea⊠I like the sound of thatâŠ
It wasnât enough you blindsided her and tied her up â no, you had to go the extra mile! She wasnât going to wear that costume voluntarily â certainly not for you! We were eventually told she was dressed like a character from a kidâs show called Sailor Moon. For some reason I felt compelled to look it up, and it left me even more confused. Apparently, itâs common to sexualize cartoon characters; what the hell is wrong with people?! I saw something titled SpongeBob Squirt Pants! I donât care what consenting adults do to get their jollies, but you canât tell me kids donât see that stuff!
He strangled her when it was over; the bonds on her wrists and ankles tore her skin as she struggled toâ when he wasâ
I-Iâm sorry, I canât⊠Can you⊠since you know more than us anyway, can you please just tell us what really happened that night?
[Auctioneer]
Yessir, I canâŠ
Minutes after she returned home, a call from Erin was placed on speaker while Julie stood only feet from the coat closet where Bateman was hiding. He would have figured it out anyway, but their conversation confirmed your daughter would be alone for the night.
Approximately thirty minutes later, the strip of light beneath the door went dark, and Bateman waited a few moments longer before quietly emerging from the closet. The apartment was dark except for a soft, yellow glow at the end of a hallway, and music could be heard playing over the sound of running water.
Julie didnât hear the bathroom door open, and she didnât see the shadow growing on the shower curtain; she only noticed Batemanâs presence when the curtain was violently ripped away. He left her no chance to react; as she opened her mouth to scream, he stepped forward, punching her across the jaw. Her head snapped backwards â impacting the tiles as she fell and leaving her unconscious.
Bateman moved her to the bed where he quickly dressed her as Sailor Moon before binding her hands and feet. The costume was purchased specifically for this occasion, and he took the time to style Julieâs long, blonde hair in the characterâs likeness. She regained consciousness before his work was done, but she was unable to move due to the restraints. He ignored her cries until finished â then he gave her the same two options he would later present to his future victims; âplay along and live, or try to escape and die.â Julie was unfamiliar with Sailor Moon, but â seeing it as her only chance of survival, she chose to play along.
In the first scene, Bateman chose the role of Prince Demando for himself asâ
[Lawrence Edwards]
Wait! I donât know if we can hear that part right now⊠Iâ we canât⊠After that⊠the autopsy listed her cause of death as asphyxiation⊠is that accurate? Did he force her to live through all of those horrible things only to choke her in the end?
[Auctioneer]
Yes, Iâm afraid so. Ms. Edwards was subjected to various role-playing scenarios for several hours before being strangled during the final⊠act.
[Lawrence Edwards]
I want to make that monster bleed; every single night, I dream of doing hideous, unspeakable things to him, and Iâm disgusted by what heâs turned me into. You people have already given us more than we dared hope for; I donât know what these other folks have been through, but even if we donât get to be there in person â what youâve done for us is more than enough. From the bottom of our broken and battered hearts, thank you.
[Auctioneer]
Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Edwards; we know it isnât easy to hear these things â especially from strangers â but youâre among people who understand this pain all too well. Each and every member of our team has been affected in a similar way; we take this work very seriously, and our main goal is to provide some semblance of comfort during these difficult times. Whether you find peace in knowing this man will never hurt another soul or simply in his harsh punishment makes no difference; we all grieve differently and heal at our own pace.
Benefactors! Are you ready to hear from our second Guest?
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After committing his first murder, Bateman was overcome with paranoia, but when no detectives appeared at his door over the following weeks â that paranoia slowly turned into confidence. Then, on October 2nd, 2019, he decided to do it again. This time his victim was nineteen-year-old Natalie Laird. Tonight, her father and two brothers are here with us; Mr. Laird, you may begin when ready.
â
[Jason Laird]
⊠Dad?
Uh, hey everyone, Iâm Jason, this is my brother Tony, and I donât think Dad is as ready as he thought⊠Is it alright if I ask a question instead?
Thanks. I want to believe this is real, but how do we know thatâs a live feed on Bateman? Or that you guys even have him? He hasnât reacted to anything thatâs been said; I want to see him hold up four fingers⊠without any âcamera glitchesâ.
â
Well?
[Auctioneer]
Mr. Bateman! We warned you about this! The young man is speaking to you!
â
Have it your way; Frank â one second contact, please.
My apologies, Mr. Laird. Carlâs microphone is muted, but the person you see entering the room is our head of security, and the device in his hand is a cattle prod; Iâm sure Mr. Bateman will be more amenable to your request momentarilyâ
Ah, yes, four fingers. Is that satisfactory, or would you like him to sit up and look at the camera? Please, donât hesitate to ask; we understand your skepticism completely, and weâre happy to oblige any reasonable requests to put your mind at ease.
[Jason Laird]
N-no sir, I think that does it⊠thank youâŠ
So⊠youâre saying if we talk about what happened to Nat â one of those rich people might decide to bid on our behalf?
Yea⊠I think I can see what youâre doing, but everything else aside â our concern is knowing he canât hurt anyone else. Beyond that, he deserves whatever he gets.
Natalie was a private person, though; she wouldnât want everyone knowing what that bastard put her through⊠I know the details are all on the download anyway, but we havenât decided if weâre going to watch it⊠or which parts weâll watch if we do⊠We would appreciate it if you didnât recount Natâs final moments here as well⊠Iâll live with what I saw for the rest of my life, and despite how they feel right now â I donât want my father or brother to be plagued by the same images.
[Auctioneer]
Absolutely, sir, that is entirely at your discretion⊠Though, you must never blame yourselves for the actions of a monster! Youâre a very bright, well-spoken young man, and Iâm sure you have great things ahead. Thank you for your time.
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With reports of a second murder, warnings of The Cosplay Killer flooded local news networks, but his identity remained a mystery. Then, on the morning of November 4th, Vanessa Jordanâs body was discovered by her boyfriend after failing to appear for a breakfast date. Andrew spoke to CNN saying he wasnât yet aware of the recent killings, and struggled to process every aspect of the grueling scene. Though he did not recognize the popular PokĂ©mon character, Misty, Iâm sure itâs a likeness he wonât soon forget; his chilling call to 911 is included in our final report.
Benefactors, since there is no one here to speak on Vanessaâs behalf, we will move on to our third and final Guest. She is the only survivor of Mr. Batemanâs madness â please welcome Michelle Perkins.
[Shelly Perkins]
Hey, you can call me Shelly; I didnât think this would be real, either, but there he is. Thatâs a face Iâll never forget â even without the red jumpsuitâŠ
Look at me, bastard!⊠No, donât glance and turn away; I want you looking right at me for every word of this⊠I said look at me!
[Auctioneer]
Frank; two-second contact, please⊠Excellent.
Mr. Bateman, next time it will be three seconds.
My apologies, Ms. Perkins; please, continue.
[Shelly Perkins]
Oh, I donât mind a bit; feel free to zap him anytime he looks away. If you people want a story in exchange for a chance to do it myself â fine by me. Iâm glad the Lairdâs donât want to go, and Iâm sorry to Mr. Edwards, but nobody deserves this more than I do.
The first time l saw Bateman was when he appeared outside of my sociology class⊠he got way too close just to compliment my shirt! I suppose the fact it had Inuyasha on it is relevant â thatâs another animeâ err, cartoon â like Sailor Moon and PokĂ©mon. He said he noticed it before class â like it was normal to wait around for an hour just to compliment a strangerâs shirt! I tried to say thanks and walk away, but he followed me; I didnât want him to know which dorm was mine so I walked to a coffee shop. Thankfully, a few friends from drama club were there, but when I tried to point out my stalker â he was gone. Thirty minutes later, we left as a group, and there was still no sign of the psycho. That was a Tuesday; by Friday, I forgot he existed entirely.
Midterms were over and everyone was ready to go home for Christmas break. They were all on edge because of the Cosplay Killer. If he had been attacking blondes or looking for a certain type â everyone would have dyed their hair and lived their lives, but no one knew who heâd choose next. Julie was blonde like Sailor Moon, Natalieâs hair was pink like Sakuraâs, and Vanessa was a ginger like Misty. Apparently mine is black like Kagomeâs⊠isnât that right, Carl?
Oh â Kagome is one of the main characters from the Inuyasha cartoon â Iâll try to keep those parts simple. Even if it kills me to call it a cartoon â this isnât the time for an anime lesson.
Anyway, I stayed in that night. Pretending to live alone was nice, and my dorm felt like a safe place⊠Most people didnât even lock their door, but I always did.
I was up late watching YouTube when there was a soft knock at the door⊠It wasnât uncommon; plenty of others were staying through the holiday, and college kids arenât known for their love of grocery shopping. I thought one of the stoners was looking for snacks againâŠ
The moment I saw that creepâs face, I knew I made a terrible mistake. I tried to slam the door, but he pushed back, and it hit me hard enough to blur my vision. The struggle was brief; I only remember flashes, but it ended with him beating my head against the hard floor, and everything going black. There were no dreams, only oblivion; when I did regain consciousness, it was like waking from a deep sleep until memories of the attack flooded back.
My head ached like it was being split in half; as I became more aware, I could hear Bateman moving around but didnât want him to know I was awake. Still thinking we were in my dorm, I hoped to make a run for the door⊠I wish I had looked around first. As I tried to rise, I noticed several things at once.
We werenât in my dorm; we were in a dingy basement. I was also dressed like a slutty school girl â which is the easiest way to describe Kagomeâs costume â and around my ankle was a fuzzy handcuff attached to a metal bar anchored into the concrete floor. The chain was loud, and he heard my movement immediately.
He was wearing a red jumpsuit with a large beaded necklace like the Inuyasha character⊠Iâve had a hard life, but Iâm a survivor! When I saw the sick look in his eyes and that disgusting grin, I made a decision to play along â no matter what. I had hoped my knowledge of the show would allow me to convince him the cuffs were unnecessary, but sadly serial killers are harder to manipulate than it looks in the moviesâŠ
But I didnât give up! Oh, no! I âplayed-alongâ for the worst three hours of my existence as he systematically ruined my life and a beloved childhood memory at the same time. Itâs no surprise this was the only way he could get a woman; heâs infinitely more disgusting naked. Thankfully, his whopping four inches didnât do much tearing as he assaulted me â that made things a little easier. Then, it finally happened; if he wanted to act out one of the biggest scenes of the series â he had to uncuff me. By then, he was in such a hurry to unlock it â he dropped the key twice in the process.
It took every ounce of my restraint not to run right then; he was watching me for any sign of defiance, and I knew I would die before I let him get that cuff on me again. Another part of my soul withered as I swallowed my vomit and forced myself to play along for a few more minutes. We were standing with my back against the wall, and within arms reach â the liquor bottle was still right where I set it. I bit my lip until it bled to keep from gagging as I waited for him to get⊠lost in the moment, and I ran my fingers through his nasty, oily hair to position my hand as closely to the shelf as possible.
As his eyes began to roll back, I grabbed the bottle and brought it down on his head with all my strength; it didnât break, and he didnât fall to the floor like I imagined. He only groaned and staggered a few steps back as he looked at me with the blackest hatred Iâve ever seen. I knew how quickly he would catch me if I ran⊠instead, I charged at him like a bull and hit him over the head once more. The impact reverberated up my arm to my shoulder, but I hardly felt it; my sole focus was on Bateman. He was on the ground and bleeding, but whether he was really unconscious or faking it â I couldnât be sure.
Thatâs when I noticed how close he had fallen to the handcuffs; my heart was beating in my throat as I approached, but somehow I got the cuff around his wrist. He began groaning again as it clicked shut, and I ran from the room without looking back. I didnât notice or care that my only articles of clothing were a see-through blouse and a skimpy, green skirt with nothing underneath â my only thought was finding an exit.
Had I been thinking clearly, I would have bashed that psychoâs brains in until only a pile of mush was left. Unfortunately, that didnât occur to me until Bateman was already screaming to be released. By then I had reached the top of the basement stairs which led to a dark kitchen; I couldnât see anything. Using the wall as a guide, I began making my way through the strange house until my hand found an open doorway.
At the end of the hall, two windows let in just enough light to identify the front door. My hands were still shaking as I pulled it open and threw myself over the threshold. Once outside, my hopes were crushed yet again by the sound of footsteps racing up the basement stairs; I shut the door softly as I heard his first infuriated scream. There was just enough starlight to see I was on an abandoned houseâs creaky porch. I had no clue where I was, and the few other houses also appeared empty. The only car on the street had to be the one Bateman drove, but it was locked.
I kept moving further away; I wanted to melt into the darkness and become one with the night. There was less than fifty yards between me and the murder house when a spotlight shined a few feet to my left; I dropped to my stomach and managed to roll behind a tree just as the beam passed by, but he wasnât giving up. Batemanâs voice was dripping with malice as he alternated between threatening me with vile, disgusting things or promising to take me home. Any tenuous grip that man had on reality was long gone. He waved the light around in random, jerky motions, leaving me no time to move or check his position without the risk of being seen.
I focused on looking for the best direction to run, and thatâs when I noticed space for a culvert had been dug alongside the road. It was nothing but an overgrown ditch now, but I laid flat and crawled through the tall grass; it was my only chance.
When the light passed back the other way, I didnât hesitate. I didnât know what lay at the end of that long, abandoned road, but there was no turning back. In the ditch, I felt like everything had to be ok; Iâd come too far to die. Daydreams of returning to that house with police kept me going as my body burned from the itch of a thousand bug bites in places that already hurt too much to think about.
It felt like hours later when I realized the light was gone, but I was still too afraid to leave the ditch. Even at the end when there was nowhere else to crawl, I stayed in place to examine my surroundings. In front of me was a real road with painted lines, and a single light shone in the distance to my left; thatâs where I headed.
Once out of view from that street, I felt safe enough to stand. Two cars passed by before I made it to those distant lights; I should have flagged them down for help, but I hid from both â convinced it was Bateman. When I finally did make it to the light source, I cried tears of joy to see it was a normal house, and several more were further down the street.
Unfortunately, I looked more frightening than the actual psycho⊠the first house wouldnât even open the door, the next two slammed them in my face, and finally, the fourth was kind enough to listen to me through a closed window. She was a little old lady⊠I canât blame her for being suspicious, but eventually, we were able to come to an agreement; she called 911 while I made myself as small as possible in a dark corner of her porch. Once help was on the way, she felt safe enough to let me inside.
It took almost forty minutes for help to arrive, but when it did â I made sure the police understood exactly which house I escaped from. In my terror, I had imagined Bateman was still out there looking for me, but he was gone. I met with a sketch artist, and finally, a week later, they found Bateman. He had no criminal record, but there was no doubt about his guilt; the bastard admitted to it immediately before requesting a lawyer, and you guys know the rest.
[Auctioneer]
Yes⊠Mr. Bateman would have spent the remainder of his life in a comfortable institution had he not escaped. Clearly, the state of Massachusetts could not be trusted with his care, and fortunately, they now believe heâs dead.
Ms. Perkins, thank you for sharing your story with us; I know youâre all ready for the main event, so without further delay, please enjoy this short video while the Benefactors make their final decisions.
âââââââââââ
âŠ
Alright, now that we have a break with our audience, letâs see how they feel about tonightâs Guests! Itâs astounding how much more people will say when they think theyâre speaking to a small, intimate group, but that Laird boy might be a little too smart for us, eh? I like him, but itâs a good thing you all are the ones actually deciding which Guest will get their private meeting!
Please turn your attention to the poll and cast your vote now! Who will have the taste of sweet revenge on Saturday? Will it be the grieving parents or the courageous heroine? I donât often choose favorites, but itâs hard not to when we have a firecracker like Shelly!
While the votes are coming in â Benefactors! Are you ready to hold the auction?
For those joining us for the first time, weâll replay the footage for the Guests who will think itâs happening live. This way, the audience always wins!
âŠ
âââââââââââ
And, weâre back! Thank you, Guests, for your continued patience, and now â the moment youâve all been waiting for!
Mr. and Mrs. Edwards, Benefactor #3 is a parent like yourself; they would be honored to bid on your behalf.
Laird family, Benefactor #1 saw a bit of their younger self in Jason. Since he has declined the prospect of seeing Mr. Bateman in person â you may potentially choose someone to go in your stead.
And last but certainly not least, Ms. Perkins. Itâs no surprise Benefactor #2 â who once survived a similar attack â is overjoyed to be your sponsor.
My only question is â are you ready to start the bidding?!
[5 minutes later]
âgoing once! Going twice! Sold! For 3.5 million to Benefactor #2! Wow, what a rollercoaster! Ms. Perkins, pack your bags because weâll be seeing you Saturday!
âââââââââââ
âŠ
Well guys, thatâs it for tonight, but before we go â donât forget to download âThe Crimes of the Cosplay Killerâ for just $49.95! Or if you would like to pre-order âThe Punishment of the Cosplay Killerâ at the same time, you can add both to your Sweet Mercy collection for a mere $89.95! Those who reserve their copies today will also receive special behind-the-scene footage from Warehouse 66!
âŠ
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[Saturday]
[Auctioneer]
Hello, Shelly, itâs so nice to finally meet you in person! So, over the last few days, weâve discussed what youâd like to see happen here, and I think youâll be pleased with the work weâve done.
Considering we do this full-time, we already owned most of the items you requested, but the gynecologist chair was a wonderful addition to our collection. Weâve named it Perkins; I think itâs going to be a fanâ er, Guest favorite.
Oh, watch your step â one of the technicians hasnât finished putting this one together yet; you strap the subjectâs arm to that piece â then you turn the lever to twist.
Now that youâve seen the theater, letâs go get Bateman; I thought youâd like to see his new forever home⊠And donât worry about the other prisoners â theyâre here for the same reason, but theyâre completely harmless. Judging by our recent conversations, I assume you arenât squeamishâŠ
[Shelly Perkins]
Ha, no you donât have to worry aboutâ Holy shit! Are his eyes gone? Whoa, thereâs so many of them!
[Auctioneer]
You seem surprised. Most people have the same idea â that itâs better to keep them alive. The only problem is â we canât tell the future. What if something happens and they get away? Then we would be responsible for letting these dangerous animals lose into society! Thatâs why we remove their eyes and castrate them before theyâre transported to Sweet Mercy Zoo. Even if they were to get out of their cells â theyâd have no idea where to go next, haha.
Obviously, that doesnât include Carl; we didnât want to be presumptuous. Youâll find him exactly as you saw him on the livestream, but we have surgeons standing by in case you need assistance or the subject gets a little too close to death.
[Shelly Perkins]
Thatâs brilliant; I canât wait to get started!
[Auctioneer]
I love your enthusiasm! You should consider a career with us. Weâre always looking for people who truly understand the importance of our work, and the pay is marvelous!⊠Just something to think aboutâŠ
Ah, here we are, Mr. Bateman, your date has arrived!
Credit: Page Turner
Please Note the Author of this Creepypasta does NOT give permission for it to be used for any podcasts or narrations
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