Columbine Basement Tapes Novels & Stories

she said finally, stepping around her. Linda’s voice followed her. “Don’t take too long, Celine. Time isn’t on your side.” That night, unable to sleep, Celine wandered into Caleb’s office. She knew it was a risk, but her instincts told her to dig deeper. As she scanned the room, her eyes landed on the corner of his desk, where a small stack of tapes was neatly arranged. One tape in particular caught her attention—it was labeled with the date of her escape. Her hands trembled as she slid the tape into the player. The grainy footage showed the docks where she had boarded Dimitri’s yacht. Her breath caught as Dimitri appeared on the screen, his face clear as day.

“It has three skeletons inside. The scent markers are gone, but the place... it belongs to Mr. Winters. His name was written on the wall of the basement.” Bethany’s voice remained calm. “Do you have any proof he owns that cabin?” “I... no.” I looked away. “Not enough to hold up in court. But the videos on that drive are his. They show Elite students, Miss Spirit. They are being distributed without their consent.” Her fingers clenched around the journal.

The man barely had time to draw his weapon before her blade was in his throat. Blood pooled beneath his feet. She didn’t flinch. Donatello wasn’t there. Not yet. But what they found was better. Ledgers. Flash drives. Video evidence. Lorenzo scanned the room. “They recorded everything.” Gianna’s voice trembled with rage. “These tapes, they sold them and streamed them.” Massimo smashed a monitor with the butt of his rifle. “Sick bastards.” Talana picked up one of the drives and closed her fist around it. “This is how we destroy them. We don’t just kill them. We expose them.”

"Delete every byte. I don't want anyone seeing those tapes." "Are you sure?" Lucas’s voice replied over the speaker. "The shooter might be on the periphery of the frame." Tapes? Files? My stomach dropped. "They're too smart for that," Nathan snapped. "Maybe. But check the footage before and after Zack arrived," Lucas argued. "Don't you want to know if anyone else was in that house? You said the perimeter alarms were tripped while he was there." I gasped. Footage? There were cameras at the cabin?

Then Claire Stone’s maternity from Scans, Notes, Details from the night she hemorrhaged. More folders followed. Fellowship records. My application essay. Photos from the retreat. One folder highlighted, Cabin 7. And then the videos. The shower. The cabin porch. Last night’s dinner, Alaric’s hand under my dress, caught from an angle I didn’t even recognize. Fuck! I stared at the screen, numb, the room suddenly too quiet. This evidence is more than enough to bring me down. One last file remained. Title, Board Presentation I opened it.

By the time Damian lunged forward, the figure had vanished through the opposite door — one Eli hadn’t even realized existed. He sprinted after them, but the hall was empty. The sound of footsteps faded into the storm. Damian cursed under his breath and returned to the library. Eli stared at the flash drive. “Should we—?” “Yes.” Damian plugged it into the desk monitor. The screen blinked once, then filled with static. Slowly, an image formed — grainy security footage from years ago. A basement. A younger Damian, kneeling beside a restrained man, his expression unreadable. Lily gasped. “What is this?”

One looked up from his notes and moved out of their way as they approached. Rebecca looked down at the victim’s chalk outline. It indicated that she’d been lying in a sprawled position, but curiously, there was very little sign of blood. Almost instantly, she got to work, taking photos from all the necessary angles without stepping too close. She shot the surroundings, too: from the barren layout of the smooth concrete floor to the rows upon rows of filing cabinets. All in all, the basement was clean and surprisingly neat. John spoke up, “This is where they keep their old files. The staff seldom come down here, so this basement has been made into a store of sorts. “

The White Room was colder than the rest of the school—colder and strangely quiet, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. Theo crouched by the broken file cabinet in the corner, flipping through the warped logbook they’d found. Greg stood at the window, arms folded tightly, watching the storm gather outside. Helena sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes locked on the screen of Tessy’s phone as the footage played. Tessy’s voice was tight. “This was buried deep. A locked server. Hidden folder. Took me two days to crack.” The footage jittered slightly. Static lines ran through the grainy timestamped video. But what they saw was clear.

Really couldn't hold herself back. Brug "Oh my God. Shit..." Louisa jumped there in surprise, when she accidentally bumped into a cassette that was at the bottom of her desk. Louisa was silent for a moment. She remembered the tape so damn well. Then slowly Louisa crouched down and grabbed the small black cassette there. “This is an evidence tape of the perpetrator who started the fire in the Tomkins House data center building. I have to be careful with this thing. I... have to focus on being able to uncover all the truth. This will be a great tool to uncover everything. I have to take care of this thing.”

And knowing that I found these photos behind this closet, under the same room with Santi and Debbie… it became clear to me that they must have been the ones who are behind all of these! And then another realization just hit me. The date of the VHS tape I first saw was just a day ago before we arrived here. Does that mean that they still have victims? They still don’t stop? Are they recording all the sufferings of these young souls? How could-- The sound coming from the speaker outside suddenly stopped and was changed into screams coming from Chloe.