Boarding House
Time: 20:36 minutes
Starring: Bettie Lee
This video features: unconscious bagging teen




When Bettie woke, her friend was gone, bed stripped, cubby empty. On the phone with her mom, she begged to go home. This boarding house for troubled teens was the wrong place for her. She was a good girl. The hair and body art, was just her way of expressing herself—becoming independent. Her parents did not see it that way. Now, the friend who had helped her through the first few weeks at the boarding house was gone—without a trace. She had an uneasy feeling; she curled up in her bed, snuggled with her favorite doll and tried to forget the events of the day.
Asleep, she did not notice the man standing over her. Head groundskeeper, she would have recognized him. But, there was not going to be that moment as he checked his syringe, then plunged it into her neck. She struggled violently as he held her head down. She slowed down fast and was out. He was given the duty of cleansing the more troubled of the girls. They were a small facility — only so many beds. Room had to be made for the next girl. He pulled the covers back, looked at the young girl in a t-shirt nighty and white cotton panties. He slowly stripped off her clothes.
A while later, he had her secured to the bed with shrink-wrap. This was the method he preferred and they let him choose his methods as long as the kill was clean, and cleaned up well. He admired his work for a bit, running his knife along her body, paying special attention to it as the tip of the blade clicked along the ripples of plastic separating the sharp blade from her skin. She was a pretty girl. They mostly were. It was just an observation.
She woke up, stocking in her mouth, secured to the bed, a man looking at her with psychotic intensity. She was so scared. He tried to explain things. He always tried to explain things to them. They never seemed to get it though. Only when he lowered the thin sheet of plastic over their faces did they truly understand—by then it was too late.
With her face smashed under the plastic, her first instinct was to try and breath, of course this sealed the plastic against her face. Instant panic set in, claustrophobia, no air, and limited mobility—she struggled as hard as she could. The shrink wrap made plenty of noise as she struggled against it. Not able to reach her face, she clawed at the bed sheet---her feet twisting and turning. Under the plastic, her face mashed like a strange mask—her eyes wide—eyelashes smashed against the plastic, her nose flattened, her mouth misshapen. She tried so, so hard to live. As she slowed, she began to try and claw and tear at the plastic with her fingers, but it was too late—she was so weak. Slower and slower, she soon became still.
He removed the plastic; Bettie was dead, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. He reached into her mouth and pulled out the stocking. Then, he spent time using his pocketknife to slice the shrink-wrap off her.
Time to clean up this mess. He pulled her body off the bed, face first on the floor. He realized she was in his way on the floor so he lifted her back up onto the other bed—face first. He started straightening her bed, and then realized the small cross necklace she was wearing was missing. He tossed her body up on the bed to get her legs out of his way. She was now lying on her back as he searched the floor for the necklace. When he found it he went back to work. Once he was ready, he set her up to lift her, but he lost his grip a few times, and she kept flopping around. Finally, he drags her off the bed and tosses her onto the other bed. He lays her out, wraps her up in her comforter, and then carries her out.