“He goes ‘I’m a very smart man.’ I said ‘You are?’ And he goes ‘Yes. And you’re going to remember me. On April 19, 95 you’re going to remember me for the rest of your life.’”
On April 8, 1995 Timothy McVeigh and two other men were allegedly at a strip club in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Above is security camera footage from the dressing room at Lady Godiva’s that night. Eleven days later Tim would go on to commit the Oklahoma City bombing.
You can watch the footage as part of the documentary Terror From Within here.
Aksaray, Istanbul, Turkey — Apparently, this Irish tourist accidentally spilled a fridge full of bottled water in a shop, which resulted in an argument between him and the shopkeeper. The latter then hit him with a large piece of wood while he gathered his people to help.
He turned out to be a boxer, who then used his skills to fend off attackers in the street. The crowd then grew as more tried to help fight the tourist. Despite the impromptu mob, they couldn’t take the man down and later decided to retreat.
(Neither going head on with multiple attackers nor blocking weapons with your forearm are advisable; it just so happened that this guy was bigger and tougher than the attackers. It was also fortunate that no one took a blade or gun into the scuffle.)
Does anybody want to tell my why the grunt whose turn it was to review the security camera footage came to me like he’d seen a blood cult performing a demonic sacrifice? Or perhaps a very freaky, scary, and as long as we’re not judging each other on word choice, strangely kinky sexual encounter? No? Anybody? Zenith…? Faba…?
As they waited in the boutique for the manager to return to return with a copy of the security camera footage, the catchy piece of music playing in the background slowly worked its way into Danny’s stream of conscience until he found himself quietly humming along.
Then he stopped and chuckled quietly, earning a look from Steve. “What?”
“Nothing. You said you didn’t want to hear about it, so you won’t.” Danny continued to grin, rocking back on his heels, while Steve continued to shoot him looks.
“Okay, come on, just say it,” Steve growled finally, leaning against the counter and turning to face Danny, waving a hand at him to continue. “What do you have to say for yourself this time?”
Rolling his eyes, Danny pointed upwards. “Of you liked it, you should have put a ring on it?” he stated, waiting until Steve nodded to continue. He dropped his hand, pointing at Steve’s abdomen. “Well,” he added, then lightly sang the rest of the statement, “I loved it so I put a liver in it.”
Steve’s expression remained stoney for a moment before his lips started to twitch, the perpetual cloudy day in his look lifting in one of those moments of rare amusement and he looked away, running a hand over his mouth. “That was terrible, Danny. Absolutely terrible.”
Still, as he looked down, suddenly interested in a smudge on the country’s glass surface, the smile not only remained, but it was genuine and took a few years away from him. Pleased, Danny slid his hands into his pockets and started humming again, rocking back and forth on his feet.
I loved it so I put a liver in it. Oh oh oh, oh oh oh…
i bet they only let real senior detectives map out crimes on their cork boards with red string. because i bet everyone who becomes a detective really wants to do that and they get a little too into it. like they break out the red string for the most minor of crimes. like, “okay so this guy robbed the convenience store, right? this is a still from the security camera footage. so i got the line going from him to a picture of the store there, okay? now, he robbed the store with a gun so as you can see, there’s a line, it’s going from his right hand to a picture of a gun i got off the internet. now that’s the same type of gun that he used, that’s just a much better picture. oh and these are sub-strings coming off the gun to a picture of bullets, just to help me visualize, you know, all the pieces in motion here. now as for motives or connections to a larger crime ring, i’m unsure at this time. a lot of these cases are the result of a poor upbringing, depression, uh, heavier psychological issues are always at play. kind of abstract stuff to depict with, polaroids, so just to represent that, there is a string coming off of his head here, where obviously dark thoughts tend to manifest, to a picture, now i drew this with stuff i just had at the office and one trip to michaels, just to kind of represent…inner demons. so this is a child, in a room and he’s looking up at these shadowy, faceless figures. i did that with charcoal. uh, and yeah they just represent things that might have been plaguing him. maybe the figures are his parents or other people in his life that failed him in some way? maybe it’s society as a whole. kind of open to interpretation there, but as a detective this is my job, to interpret these clues. he’s still on the loose actually, so that explains, i just thought this was cute, it’s a line going from him to a picture of the earth and i just sort of drew a big question mark on that. like, ‘where is he? where’s his head at?’”
Patience was something Saeran did not excel at. However, obeying his Savior’s commands was something he did excel at. Savior absolutely insisted that they spend Christmas with the cute little party planner they had led to the apartment, and who was he to say no? After all, they did have big plans for her.
So after rewiring the security camera to previously filmed footage, as well as the bomb sensitivity that rotten scumbag, Luciel, had planted in an attempt to ruin all Saeran’s fun, he stayed put. Although sitting the dark and waiting wasn’t pleasant, he knew he would be rewarded for his actions. If I’m patient, thought Saeran, I’ll get a very nice gift.
So, he patiently waited. She should be home any time soon, right? She had cooperated in giving him the information as to when the party ended, so he had no doubts that she would be back, and she would come alone.
His giddy thoughts were interrupted by the gentle taps of a key pad, and then the eerie creak of the door handle. Once the door had shut behind her, he called, “Merry Christmas!” from the darkness, his voice brimmed with false, acidic enthusiasm. How long had he been waiting to say that? How long had he been waiting to crush Luciel’spathetic little heart?
“Well?” he pressed on. “Don’t you recognize my voice? I would feel hurt if you didn’t after we had such a lovely phone conversation this morning,” he cooed, his eyes crinkling into a sadistic smile as he flickered the lights on to reveal his identity.
“Are you scared? Oh, how cute. But why is that? If you hadn’t been so bold as to message me, I think I would have had no one to play with on Christmas.
"But now, thanks to you, I have my very own toy on Christmas.” He took her cheeks between his hands, inspecting her, like one might do to livestock for purchase. “You’ll make a lovely addition to Magenta, won’t you?” Of course, his question was rhetorical, and surely, she understood that by now.
“What do you say? You’ll come with me, right?” he asked, giving her another grin, as he held out his hand to her. “Don’t you want to spend Christmas together?”
Region of origin: Fresno, California, United States
The Fresno Aliens, or “Nightcrawlers,” are a group of beings caught on security camera footage notable for their long legs and strange gait. These sightings have been fairly recent but there are some claims the indigenous people of the region have been familiar with them for hundreds of years, and that these extraterrestrial or extra-dimensional creatures are benevolent proponents of harmony and mankind coexisting the natural world.
Loren Wakeley turned to a neighbour’s security camera footage after finding the garden wall of his Sydney suburb home in ruins after returning from holiday. The footage revealed that he was the victim of a hit-and-run driver.
The video shows a BMW slam through a brick wall in front of his house in Kellyville Ridge, New South Wales. The driver dashed out of the car, which was marked with p-plates for provisional drivers, to examine the damage after spinning on the wet road and into the Wakeley’s garden. The man then hopped back into the vehicle and fled the scene. Credit: YouTube/Julian Naicker via Storyful
This gets me every time I watch it. Like, Kim had no clue that she was watching the first of thousands of security camera footage clips of one of the most capable enemies she would ever have. And she’s just like, “Who is she?” It’s just something crazy to think about.
I doubt Kim ever imagined Shego being broke out of jail on multiple occasions, being a part of a family of superheroes, or being qualified in education. “She’s good.” Kim had no clue this badass villain was going to be her enemy in the majority of her fights, that she was going to be someone with a moral code of sorts (unlike most of KP’s other foes), never suspected that she would save her life (even if it was for the sake of wanting to be the one to “destroy Kimmie”).
Sorry. I just fucking love Shego and how clueless Kim was at the beginning of this series.
L Lawliet x Light Yagami - Death Note Cosplay Music Video
Just as planned.
The tale of the killer notebook and the young man who thought that he could use it to play god, told through security footage - the cameras, the many hidden, watchful eyes of the century’s greatest detective.
She knows he’s looking at her. She can feel it, a prickling sensation at the side of her head, right under her ear, over her pulse point, that patch of skin where he has pressed his lips, has sucked and licked and bitten so many times.
She doesn’t look up. It’s difficult as it is already, without knowing that he is there, standing feet away from her and just ruining her by simply looking her way with an intensity that could burn down bridges.
She keeps working on whatever it is she is doing - paperwork? Checking the security cameras footage she had been going over earlier on their half useless computer? She can barely remember - and ignores the sixth sense she has developed that informs her exactly of where he is. It dings loudly in her head as he approaches her with measured steps, his boots echoing loudly on the sheriff station’s polished floor as he comes to stand behind her and look over her shoulder at what she is doing.
(Too close, he is too damn close…)
He makes a low sound at the back of his throat. “The cameras from the hospital?”
“Yeah. Leroy sent them over, but nothing for now,” she claims, intent on not turning to see the way he’s looking at her.
(She knows how he looks at her - heat, conflict, giddiness and guilt, all wrapped up in the swirling blue of his eyes.)
He bites his lip consideringly. “Hm. Something better show up, this must be boring as hell.”
this evening there was a terror attack in tel aviv. it was at a popular open market and food hall. i have been there often. one of my close friends, who some of you know as @frightened nearly died.
i have no words. i have never in my life been so close to terror before. i am so deeply shaken by what i have just read about linda’s experience. i want everyone in the world to read and understand and have compassion. but failing that, i will share it with you all.
I want to tell you about my night. It’s going to be in the news for a little while, and I want to remember it as it happened, not as the security camera footage shows. This is for me, but it’s also for you. Especially if you live in a place where these things barely make the news.
I was supposed to stay on base all weekend and for the holiday, so I wanted a night out with Jordan. We settled on Benedict at Sarona, a 15-minute walk from our apartment. When we got there, they asked if we wanted a table outside or inside. It was hot, and we decided on inside, even if it meant waiting an extra couple of minutes for a table to clear out. We were seated by the wall, glass from ceiling to floor. It was nice.
We sat, we ate. It was good. We heard this popping noise. At first, I thought it was an electrical problem. Then the screaming started, and the people running past our window. I saw a man. I do not remember the man, but I remember the gun held by the man. It was bright silver, and because I worked on a video about them once, I knew it was a Carlo Gustav rifle. There was fire coming from the barrel, and it was red, and it made the gun even more silver, and I did not notice that he was wearing black and white. He was on the other side of the window, four feet away, separated by glass. Very quickly, everyone at the restaurant either ran or fell to the ground. Jordan ran, I fell to the ground. You don’t coordinate these things.
I lied there, facing away from the window. I really hoped he wouldn’t come into the restaurant or shoot at the glass wall. If he did, I would die. My breathing was steady, and I noticed that the floor was wet, which was unpleasant, but not, you know, the worst part.
After the sounds of the shooting grew softer, someone from the restaurant shouted that we all need to run to the back in case they return, or enter the restaurant. I did. I ran, and I hoped he wasn’t still there outside, the gun and the man holding it. If he was, he could shoot me.
The people in the back of the restaurant - everyone who had been in the restaurant - were staring at me, and I looked down and saw that I was covered in blood. I had fallen on my chin. It was my own.
Jordan found me and cleaned off the blood. We hugged a lot. We told each other “I love you.” We called our families. I left a lot of voice messages.
When the police and Magen David Adom gave us the all-clear, we started to leave. We were “in shock,” which we didn’t feel like we were, because shock is a very calm feeling, actually. They loaded us onto an ambulance. They took us to the hospital. A physician’s assistant took my vital signs. He had an Arab name. A doctor glued my chin back up, and they had us see a psychiatrist, who was very nice and made us laugh.
We’re home now.
I saw that they’re handing out candies in Hebron. I’m scared to read the American headlines, or any news at all. They kept playing the footage in the hospital waiting room. The terrorists are younger than me. They’re heroes back home.
I’m thinking about all the “devil’s advocates” I’ve known, the “they have no other venues for protest” camp, the “it’s justifiable in a conflict like this” college students I shared desks with. Please consider, if you’ve read this far: if we hadn’t sat outside, if the shooters came into the restaurant, if one had turned slightly to the left and fired, I would be dead right now. I don’t care what “side” you’re on. I don’t care about your politics. If you care about me, call out terror for what it is. Call men shooting at screaming civillians who are running for their lives terrorism. Tell the people you know that it’s never okay to target innocent men, women, and children, even if you don’t like where they live. Stand up for the people who didn’t want to wait, for the people who said “the weather is nice, let’s sit outside,” for the four people who will never come home again after tonight. Stand up for the workers, the parents, the grandparents, the friends, the off-duty soldiers who laid there on the floor and breathed softly, praying the glass would hold. Stand up to anyone who says my life isn’t worth it. Because when they say it, I’ve learned, they mean it.
I’m alive. I’m alive. The world is beautiful, and I’m alive.
27-year-old medical student Brian Shaffer went out drinking at a bar on the evening of April 1, 2006. At around 2:00 AM, he mysteriously disappeared, and has never been seen since.
Shaffer had spoken on the phone to his girlfriend, before conversing with two other young women at the bar. However, no one seems to remember seeing him after this point. The biggest mystery of all is how Brian left the establishment without anyone noticing. Security camera footage shows the student arriving, but no footage exists of him leaving.
Brian’s family believe he was abducted, though opponents to this theory question how anyone pulled off this kidnapping without any witnesses or camera footage seeing them. It was almost as if he vanished into thin air.
RICHARD ARMITAGE in BERLIN STATION (2016) 01 102 Lights Don’t Run On Loyalty
AFTERMATH. Daniel breaks into Claudia’s flat to see if there was anything from which he could use or learn intel. Very sad, what happened, and he felt it was partially his fault. He looked at mementos, pocketed the photo of her & the reporter Ingrid, noticed a security camera across the street pointing at her outside window. Maybe it got footage. And she had a friendly cat. Daniel next went across the street to see if he could get a look at the security camera footage. The attendant warmed to him when he said the right things after observing football on telly in the little office. He gave him a story about his bike being stolen, asked to see the video. The guy was sympathetic from their rapport about football, and called up the timestamp.
Berlin Station on EPIX platforms Sunday at 9:00 pm ET - Episode 103 on October 30th!