Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S2 Ep64: Episode 64: Horror Stories from the Deep Web

Episode Date: January 13, 2022

Today’s opening tale of the fantastical and the macabre is ‘Hide and Seek’, an original story by rijento, submitted via my sub-reddit and narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission. https://www.reddit.com/user/rijento/ Next up is an original story by Greavir, ‘I Actually Bought a Mystery Box off the Deep Web’, kindly shared with us at NoSleep and narrated with the author’s permission:  https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/95xq21/i_actually_bought_a_mystery_box_off_the_deep_web/ Our penultimate tale is an original story by Rinichirou, ‘I Found New Life on the Deep Web’, again kindly shared with us at NoSleep and narrated with the author’s permission:  https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/5pict9/i_found_new_life_on_the_deep_web/ ‘The Deep Web Case Files: Long Exposure’ is our final story for the evening, written by Panley 01 and kindly shared with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all.

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please contact Connix Ontario at 1866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepen's Dungeon. For our latest episode, we return once again to the deepest, darkest corners of the deep web. Later on, we will have I Actually Board a Mystery Box off the Deep Web by Greville. That will be followed by, I Found New Life on the Deep Web by Renichero. We round things off with the Deep Web, deep web case files, long exposure by Panli O-1.

We begin with hide and seek by Regento. Now as always before we begin, a word of caution. Night stories may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. If that sounds like your kind of thing, then let's begin. Hide and seek. An old friend of mine emailed this to me a while, back with the subject line hide and seek and i've been hesitant to post it for reasons that should become obvious as you read it that said i feel that enough time has gone by for this to be safe so i'm

going to post it here the only edits i've made were swapping out names and formatting otherwise it's all exactly as he sent it t if you're reading this then message me i want to know if you're all right and if you are, I know you'll be looking for this story to show up. This is what the email said. Gento. I'm writing this story because I feel like I need an outlet. I swear to God that you better actually check your email for once in your damn life. Please.

As for if you actually are reading this, I want you to wait as long as your admittedly better judgment tells you to wait and then post this story online. I know it's a bit vain, but I want people to know my story. Well, it might be the last one I ever tell. Double hell, it might actually even help some poor soul out. I'm going to disappear after sending this. Hopefully the good kind of disappear and not the death kind.

I know nobody but you is going to believe this story, but damn if typing this out didn't make my sorry ass feel better. You were right about that man. I'm sorry for giving you shit for writing so much. T. This is the attached file. Hide and seek. Before I get into the hiding and seeking,

I have a bit of a confession that needs to be made. I work as a transporter for a deep web black market site. I hope it doesn't change your opinion of me too much. Sorry for not telling you sooner. I'm the guy they call in when they get an order for something they can't send through the mail. Guns and live animals are two good examples You'd be pretty hyped to know how many rich assholes Just order lions and tigers from the dark web

Well, for obvious reasons I can't go into too much detail I don't want to make too many dangerous enemies And even after this I still don't want to lose my job It's a pretty sweet gig all things considered All I have to do is pick up from the seller And deliver to the buyer I can even choose what jobs I want to take

Let's me cling to what's me cling to what's little principles I still have. Oh and I do have principles. After a few years of working for the site, my two rules were no people and no crossing borders. Anyways, I got into a bit of a bind with the cryptocurrency crash that happened earlier this year. The site pays mostly in Bitcoin, and while I decided to let my wallet sit and grow, by the time I realized what had happened, my savings were destroyed. Nobody expected it to crash that hard, and it probably

wouldn't have been as much of a problem if I hadn't also gotten used to living a life full of, well, the finer things. I didn't really save all that much to begin with either. So when my savings finally ran dry and the market was still down, I decided to lower my standards a bit and take a riskier, higher

paying job. Organ transport. I hadn't done it before, and I hadn't been that broke in a long time. Organ jobs pay well, too, and I figured I still wasn't strictly breaking my no-people rule if it was just their organs. So I hopped on the site and browsed through the pitiful number of requests in my area, until I found what I was looking for.

A rich bay who had, well, shady connections, was in need of some organs and lacked either the time or patience to wait for them to come legally. As far as these sorts of requests went, this was pretty much the norm from what I'd heard. So I accepted the job and got an email with some additional details about the order. The customer needed two kidneys, which is what I was to transport, and a liver, which they'd made a separate request for. From what other people on the side have told me,

what should have happened was the job would move to the seeking seller section, and I'd be on hold till someone acquired the kidneys. what actually happened probably should have tipped me off to use my monthly free withdrawal i've got a notification two hours later that there was a cellar no rizento don't know how much you know about medicine but if you do know anything then you're probably squirming in your own skin about right now for those who may or may not be reading this that are not in the know not only do the donor and receiver have to be compatible blood types, but kidneys only last about a day outside a warm body. Not exactly a product you can

stockpile. Well, I got another email about the pickup this time and began the internal debate between the bad feeling in my gut and my empty wallet. You can probably guess which one of them won out. Anyways, I planned my route, one hour to get to the cellar, and four hours to get from there to the buyer. I sent the site my plan and within minutes they have proved of it and set up an actual meeting point. I sighed and grabbed my things, trying to swallow my nerves for the entire hour it took me to reach the meeting point. I sat down on a bench in a city park and waited for what seemed like ages before I felt someone staring at me. It took me a solid minute to pick out who it was, even though there were only a few people around. He was sitting

with his back to me at a picnic table about ten yards away from him. Whenever I looked away, I could feel his eyes on me. When we eventually did make eye contact, he bounced excitedly in his seat and waved me over. My heart sank as he also slid a small case into my line of sight. I forced myself to smile,

walked over, sat down, and hid my annoyance. Most of the buyers on the site were practically carbon copies of each other, probably because you could only become a buyer if another buyer knew and endorsed you. The sellers, on the other hand, all certifiably insane. None of the other transporters I'd chatted with had ever met a normal cellar.

Because of this, all of them quickly learned to keep conversation to a minimum and to not under any circumstances piss any of them off. I decided to follow in their example. The man sitting in front of me looked friendly enough, overly so, if anything. He was scrawny. Didn't look like he'd be strong enough to, well, kill someone and harvest their insides. he had a strange smile on his face and even now i can't get that out of my head the kind of overly friendly white two smile that mothers warn their children to stay away from some i managed to be both inviting and creepy

at the same time i smiled and spoke up so um you're the cellar then i asked and the man nodded he responded in a sickeningly sweet voice he sounded like a child in a child in a toy store. His voice strained with excitement and wonder as he droned on to his parents about what toys he wanted. Oh, I'm so glad you found me. For a minute there, I thought I'd have to call Olly Olly Oxy. He said, with a please sigh, pushing the case to my side of the table. You know, over the years I've gotten quite good at playing hide-and-seek, so good in fact that I've never been found, not even once. Do you want to know my secret? The man asked. His voice still just as unsettlingly sweet as his smile.

Um, sure. What's your secret? I asked. I really, really didn't want to know what the hell he was talking about. But if it kept him happy then, well... He clapped rapidly and bounced in place. Oh, I'm so glad that you're a curious one. My secret is that the seekers never know that they're playing. Makes sense. I said, opening the case momentarily to verify.

Two kidneys in pristine condition, doused with preserving fluid, wrapped in plastic, and packed in ice. If the seeker doesn't know they're playing, then how would they know to start looking? I said, leaving out the fact that it would just be stalking at that point before swallowing hard when I thought about where these kidneys had come from. "'You're a smart one,' he said, with a smile as I sent a message confirming the pickup. All that was left was to wait for the transaction to process. I was worried about this last one, though. Oh, she came right up to me, this close,' he said, leaning in till our faces almost touched.

I struggled to keep my composure. I managed to keep from jumping or pushing him away. So, what did you do? I asked as he leaned back. My suspicions about these kidneys being all but confirmed. Why, nothing of course, he said, a slightly bewildered expression on his face. He looks as though I'd just asked him how to breathe. I glanced down at my phone to see if the transaction had been verified yet, and he snapped his fingers like he remembered something.

Oh, I must apologize. he said, making me look up. I forgot that you don't play much. I simply held my breath, close my eyes, and wished that she would just go away. You're right. You are good at hide and seek,

I said, wishing to myself that he would just go away, and hearing the familiar ding of a successful transaction sound on both of our phones, as if to answer my prayers. I reached out my hand as a formality, and he grabbed it and shook it vigorously. I forced a smile and stood,

although what he said next made my blood nearly freeze. You're the first person to find me in so long. He trailed off as he said it, his voice slowly shifting from that of an excited child to the cold-blooded maniac that he was. Maybe my games won't be so one-sided from now on, he said. his voice disturbingly normal although even without looking back I could tell that the same

sickeningly sweet smile was glued to his face I kept walking but waved my arm as though saying goodbye the worst part was I could feel him watching me as I walked back to my car not just at first like as if he was watching me leave but the entire way back and even as I got in my car I took a moment to look around and sighed as I saw nothing. It might not sound like much to you. I don't know. I can still hardly describe it myself, but he had this creepy way of getting under your skin just by talking to you. I wrote it off as just me being paranoid. The guy harvests organs from people for a living, so of course everything he says is creepy. I groaned and started my car, but it wasn't until I hit the freeway

that I was able to finally shake the feeling of his gaze. Well, it's not like he could have been following me, but by then I was already paranoid enough to be checking for that, making a few detours just to be sure of it. And because of my detours, I ended up being about an hour past the scheduled drop-off with the buyer. Lost my chance for a tip, for sure. The guy was furious, and there was nothing I could tell him to calm him down. Yeah, I'm pretty sure.

Sorry, I'm late, but the seller was a total psycho, and I wanted to make sure he wasn't following me. wouldn't have been a very good excuse. Whatever, I had my money and the buyer had his organs and plenty of time for whatever operation that used them. Not much to complain about on either side, well, except for the fact that I already knew I wouldn't be sleeping that night. Especially because the feeling of being watched

it returned as soon as I set foot out of my car, which was, again, impossible. The site never tells the sellers anything about the buyers or transporters, so there's no way he could have known where I was headed, and no way he could have followed me. I hopped back in my car and started to head for home, hoping that a few tabs of melatonin would be enough for at least a few hours of sleep. But again, I could feel eyes on me as I drove,

and I saw his eerie smile everywhere until I hit the highway. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders then, although I made sure to take the most winding path home that I could afford gas for, which was quite a bit after a job like that. Now, by the time I did get home, it was starting to get dark, and I'd made a few loops around my apartment, just to be sure I didn't still feel his eyes on me. Luckily, my apartment building has a public parking garage attached to it, so even if I was being followed, I felt safe enough that nobody would be able to find my room.

Just to be sure, I took the stairs for the first time in months. Have any of you ever climbed seven flights of stairs out of paranoia before? Well, in case you haven't, let me tell you what it's like. Do you remember running up the stairs from the basement after turning off the lights as a kid? The feeling of unease and terror. Well, it's like that, but you aren't a kid anymore. It's not the dark or what imagining monsters could be lurking in that that frightens you anymore. Instead, you're worried about who could be hiding in the darkness.

What real monster could be following you up those stairs? Now I'm no slouch when it comes to exercise, but it still drained everything out of me, hauling my body up those stairs on my hands and feet like an animal as fast as I could. I got inside and locked the door securely behind me, panting, covered in sweat, but I sighed in relief with the fact that I hadn't felt anyone watching me at all during my climb. I took a moment to catch my breath, slumping down by the door and chuckling to myself while shaking my head. I couldn't believe I'd let that freak get so deep under my skin. Once I caught my breath, I stood up and made my way to my couch before flopping onto it.

I wanted nothing more than to go to sleep then and then. But I had to be smart with my money this time. I immediately cashed the Bitcoin out. Better to pay myself out in small increments, but I had bills to pay and I'd already learned my lesson about leaving things in Bitcoin. Once business was taken care of, I grabbed the remote control, flipped on the TV. The familiar faces of the local news anchors greeted me. I began drifting off to sleep while listening to the happenings of our city. It was around 7 a.m. when I was

woken up by the sound of the breaking news alert coming off. We're just receiving reports of the ghastly murder of one. Yeah, I'm not going to put her name or age here, college student living on her own. Police investigators say that several of her organs were found to be missing and they found evidence of someone living in her home without her knowledge for quite some time before the murder. The reporters kept talking about how much of a tragedy the situation was, but I wasn't listening. How could I listen? I've never been less happy to be right than I was at that moment. I shuddered thinking about it, my thoughts and paranoia regarding the man I'd met the other day bubbling back up to the service. It was then that the reality of what I'd done hit me like a freight

train. By accepting that contract, I doomed that girl to die, all because I needed some quick cash. I stood up and went to the kitchen and opened my liquor cabinets. Without looking, I grabbed a bottle of something with shaking hands and fumbled with the top while trying to keep my mind clear of thoughts. Once I had the cap off, I took several deep swigs from the bottle, spilling quite a bit down my chin before I set it down and gasped for air. The burn of the alcohol in my throat gave me something to focus on while it worked its magic on the rest of my body. As my mind slowly clouded, I found my way to a chair and found it easier to think about what had happened without panicking. My first thought was that I needed to do something. I knew the

guy's face. I should go to the cops. It was at this moment that the less impulsive side of my brain kicked in. I go to the cops and all I do is give myself a one-way ticket to an early grave. why employers don't take kindly to police interactions I slowly resigned myself to the fact that I was going to have to live with the consequences of this job for the rest of my life yeah I'm a coward I know anyways the next few days passed slowly I was not in a good place mentally and I'm sure you remember how much alcohol my cabinets were stocked with I blacked out more than once only to wake up gasping for breath from drinking too much

It was honestly a miracle that I didn't kill myself through alcohol poisoning. But I managed to come to terms with everything. Don't get me wrong, I still had nightmares where I was the guy hiding in the girl's closet. But he wasn't drinking my problems away anymore, although I think that that was more because of the fact I'd run out of liquor than any meaningful character development. It was about a week later when I was finally able to get my first night of actual sleep. I didn't dream about anything either, so that was a plus. I know it probably sounds bad, but I was starting to feel normal again,

like I could maybe find a way just to be myself. Either way, even after all that, I still wanted to keep my job. I just had a new rule. No, organs. For there, I fell back into more or less my old routine. I went out to eat almost every day, though. I thought any excuse that got me clean. up and out of my place was worth taking.

And then, I began to feel it again. That skin-crawling sensation of eyes on me from somewhere that I felt the day I met Mr. Hide and seek. I didn't think much of it at first. I only felt the eyes when I was surrounded by other people, so of course one or two would be looking my way, right? I thought I was just guilty and paranoid. But no matter what I did, I'd always feel like I was being watched.

whenever other people were around. So I started driving more and more and eating out less and less. Not driving anywhere in particular, just driving. I felt safe on the open road. I couldn't feel any eyes on me. Well, for about a week, that is. It started small. A shiver down my spine here and there.

A sharp sensation that made my eyes snap to one car or another. Then it came more frequently, and I began to get more and more. paranoid as the feeling became stronger and stronger. I started driving less and less. Whenever I did, I kept my eyes on the cars around me, trying desperately to find where that feeling was coming from, to find who was watching me, trying to catch a glimpse of his face in a passing car. I even thought I did see him a few times, except that was just paranoia, my hope. Eventually I stopped driving unless I had to. I shut myself in my apartment, only going out to get groceries and always, always making sure that I didn't feel anyone watching me before I part.

But that feeling would always find me whenever I went out. While this went on for about a month, I started to drink again. I didn't go out to eat or drive anymore. I paid someone to deliver my groceries to the garage of my building. All I did was eat, sleep, drink, and watch movies or play games. I'd be living the dream if I didn't think a serial killer was stalking. Part of me believed that I was just being paranoid, and to be honest I desperately wanted to believe that part of me,

but not enough to state my life on it. And after another week of living like a shut-in, the feeling of being watched started to resurface. Like before, it started off small. I felt a ping of eyes on me, and from then on I kept the blind securely closed. even then the feeling persisted for days, gradually gathering in strength.

So I emptied out all my closets and cabinets daily. Eventually, I just left all of the doors open, everything on the floor, so I could look into any hiding spot in an instant. But that feeling still persisted. I stopped drinking because I was terrified of being attacked. I started sleeping less and less, and when I had to sleep, I slept inside of my closet

and barred the door shut. from the inside. I ate and drank only when I felt hungry and always with my back to a corner of the room or locked in my closet. But I could still feel eyes on me, feel his eyes on me the same way I had back at the park. It was about a month later when I finally discovered my haven. The one place left I didn't feel watched. The stairwell of my building. I found that whenever I went down and back up the stairs to get my groceries, as had long since stopped using the elevator, then I would have a brief respite from the feeling of being watched. I started to spend all my waking hours there, sat on one of the stairs without a care in the

world. I only left them to eat and sleep, and whenever I entered the building proper, I'd feel eyes on me almost immediately. But having those stairs to return to made my life almost bearable. It had been a long time since I'd had anywhere I felt safe and, like every place before it, I get waiting for the feeling of being watched to follow me into the stairwell. But it never did. For another month, I fell into a somewhat bearable rhythm. I'd wake up in my closet feeling washed. I'd eat in the corner of my kitchen feeling washed, and then I'd scurried off to the stairwell where I could feel blessedly alone. especially near the top floors where the stairs were seldom used.

But all good things must come to an end and all that. And while I never did feel watched in the stairs, I did run out of money. Apartments and cars don't pay for themselves, after all. And while I managed a few months on the blood money from my last job, it was finally time to get back to work. In the months since I'd last logged onto the site, things had calmed down significantly, and there were now plenty of jobs that didn't break any of my rule.

so I decided to go with a route that I'd done before a couple of times, a gun run. The cellar always treated me to a drink or two at his bar, and was also always well-armed, so I felt that it would be a nice and easy job that I could feel safe doing. After confirming the job, I closed my laptop, pulled on a fresh set of clothing and headed out the door. I wanted to get this over and done with, and thankfully the feeling of being watched It was rather light that day. I do admit, however, that I lingered in the stairwell for a bit before heading out. I wanted a bit of time alone before being out in the open for the first time in months.

Anyways, I hopped in my car after about 30 minutes of blessed stairwell time, and headed to the bar. After about two hours of paranoid and twisting driving, I managed to make it just in time and pulled my car into the alleyway behind the bar. The owner greeted me with a smile as I got out. See, long time, no see, he said. His smile fading as I walked up and he got a better look at me. Holy shit, man. You feeling okay?

He asked. Genuine worry in the eyes of this large man. No, I'm pretty far from okay, I said with an exhausted sigh. I could still feel the faintest hint of eyes on me even now, though I know that the owner wouldn't let me be jumped at his bar. It's a long story, I offered, realizing for the first time that it might be nice to actually tell someone what had happened. Is that so?

He said with a hint of a smile and a shake of his head. Well, how's about we get you a drink while the boys get ready to load up your car? He offered in return, making me smile. There's always plenty of time for stories of my bar, he said proudly. Oh, I'd like that, I said with another exhausted sigh, managing to keep the smile up as he put an arm around me and led me in the back door of the bar. Oh, by the way, how'd you hold up during the Bitcoin crash?

Heard it hit a couple of transporters pretty hard, he said, making me chucklers we made our way through the kitchen. Funny you should mention that, I said, making him raise an eyebrow. Because that's how my long story started. I began. only to stop short when I looked at the bar. He was sitting there, sipping on a beer without a care in the world. He noticed me out of the corner of his eye in that same sickeningly sweet smile crept onto his face as his eyes met mine.

I froze. There was no way that this was a coincidence. There was no way that he just happened to be at this bar at this time. I was broken from my trance by the bar owner, waving his hand in front of my face and saying my name. Hello, T, you all right? I quickly ducked back into the kitchen and started to hyperventilate. How did he know? How could he have possibly known that I'd be here?

Did he follow me? Did who follow you? The owner's voice brought me back to reality once again as I realized I've been thinking out loud. his face was concerned bordering on scanners how long has that guy been at the bar i asked hoping that the owner knew who i was talking about oh if you mean tall thin and creepy and about an hour what's going aren't he he asked as i slumped against the wall started crying i broke down and burst back into the bar only to see that mr hide and seek was already gone I need to go I need to get home

I said pushing past the owner and running to my car he caught after me trying to get me to stay and explain what the hell was happening but I wasn't listening for all I know

Mr Hyden's seat could be breaking into my apartment already I drove straight home I threw open the door to my apartment it had still been locked but I wasn't taking any chances I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and checked everywhere

but he wasn't there and then my phone rang and scared the living hell out of me I checked the number and gulped when I saw it was blocked I considered not answering it but in the end I picked up the call hello I asked tentatively gee what the hell happened at the bar a modulated voice rang through the speaker in my ear making me wince It was one of the site admins for sure.

I was silent for a moment before telling the admin everything. I couldn't see the man, but I could feel a sudden change when I mentioned seeing Mr. Hide and Seek at the bar. T, the admin began, a serious edge to his voice. I need you to log into the site now, he said, and something in me told me to listen. I booted up my laptop and hopped onto the sites. As soon as I logged in,

a dialogue appeared that I'd never seen before. Admin would like to take control of this computer. Do you consent to this? With two buttons. One for yes, one for no. I clicked yes and watched as my cursor began to move on its own. Thank you, T. This will only take a moment.

The admin said. A practice calm in his voice as he downloaded several files and began to do something on my laptop. A minute later a dialogue box popped up that said, Threat detected. And the admin sighed and his voice sharpened as he spoke. T, you've been compromised. You've had a nasty piece of spyware installed on your machine for about a month by the looks of things.

It's been recording your keystrokes and giving someone remote access to your camera. The admin explained, making me gulp as I realized that all of my information was insecure. But... there's no way I haven't downloaded anything I said making the admin mutter something as a bout of typing could be heard coming through the phone the admin's voice was cold and calculated when he spoke next no no you didn't he said making me gop this software was installed via USB the admin said making my heart nearly stopped hide and seek had been in my mind

home. He'd been here without me noticing and put that program on my laptop. Even after all of my paranoia, he still found his way into my room without me knowing. But I'm going to delete the program, the admin said, and a few keystrokes later, done. What the... As the admin deleted the program, thousands of windows began popping up on the screen of my laptop. all of them saying the same thing Ollie, Holly oxen free After that I threw my laptop in the trash And got a new one as well as a new phone, SIM card and all

I was taking no chances I got all new accounts for everything And the admin told me he'd revoked Mr. Hayden's membership personally But Well, I'm going to disappear all the same I have a plane ticket to somewhere and my bags are already packed. Don't look for me.

And if you ever start to feel like you're being watched, it's because you are. One of the hottest trends on YouTube right now is ordering these random mystery boxes from complete strangers on the deep web and opening them on camera. I don't know why I didn't realize a clear majority of these videos are fake and staged for their fear factor, but I didn't.

I thought it was a great idea. and hopped on the bandwagon to claim my YouTube stardom than I desperately long for. For those who don't know a lot about the deep web, it's simply a part of the internet that isn't accessible from your basic Chrome, Firefox, or explorer search engines. You must download the encryption program Tor and the Tor browser, for starters. It's not illegal to access this part of the internet, but, since it's anonymous, a great deal of illegal actions happen here.

The possibilities are endless. I grab my laptop I've had since I graduated in 2011 and download the required programs. I prefer to use my laptop over my desktop in case of viruses and such. My seven-year-old laptop is a little more disposable. Now, I had a little Bitcoin phase a few years ago when it was blowing up, so I had a little saved already. It wasn't much, only one Bitcoin, which translates to roughly $632, but it was enough for what I was looking for. After the downloads were finished, I opened the browser and started my journey at the hidden wiki website. They provide a lot of useful links to get you started on the deep web.

I scrolled through the warnings and gists of what it was and found the links I was looking for. Almost forgot, I muttered to myself. as I grabbed the duct tape from my next drawer. I got a tiny square piece off the end and placed it over my webcam. Yeah, call me paranoid, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. I clicked on the first link and waited what seemed like forever for the page to load.

It was another very plain page with a list of popular websites that you could scroll through on the side. I continued my search through the web links until I found a page dedicated to mystery boxes. I wanted to find one at around $500, so people knew I meant business on my channel. These were relatively small, staying in around the .0125 to .05 Bitcoin range. I was worried about being scammed. I decided to continue my search after a quick bathroom break.

When I came back, I noticed my cursor was off to the side and was able to click on a link that must have matched the background color of the web page because, well, I couldn't see it. I indulged my curiosity and hit the link. I was taken to a pitch black page with small white text near the top. I'm selling one random package to anyone brave enough to receive it for only 0.12 Bitcoin OBO. Only one, huh? I thought to myself. Ah, I'll shoot my shot. I hit the small payment button. I hit the small payment button and was asked how much I'd like to spend. I entered point one Bitcoin with fingers crossed. The payment went through without any hesitation and I was instantly met with a chat box asking where I'd like my package sent. I know this wasn't a good idea and I regret it

to this day. But the other YouTube channels use their own address often so I thought nothing of it. I gave them my home address. I waited over a month. for the box to come in, 36 days to be exact. It arrived directly on my front porch and was wrapped numerous times in red tape. I set my camera on the tripod and adjusted it to show me in the box on this small wooden table. I draped a sheet in the background, so it looked a little more professional. I collect some gloves and scissors so I can bang the video out in one go. Hey everybody, welcome to tonight's vlog. Boy, do I have a... surprise for you. I continue my monologue, mentioning how I got the box and how much I paid.

Without wasting further time, let's open this deep web mystery box. I grab the scissors and cut along the red tape. I make sure my gloves are on tight and I rip the box open. My brow furrows, as I see just one book. Without saying a word, I take the book out of the box. That was pretty, I'd spent over $600 on a book. Well, folks, looks like we got us a dud. These pages better be made of gold. The outside of the book was old and tattered, and it smelled of mildew and mold.

I cracked the book open to the first page and glanced over the contents. Oh, it's an old photo album. Smells of old rot. Let's look at these pictures. I show the camera a view of the page's contents. It has four pictures on the first page, all labelled by days. The first picture said day one.

The second, day two, and so on. The pictures were taken with an old polaroid camera. There were pictures of airplanes, random suitcases, a couple of taxis, and some pretty shady motels. Looks like someone's old travel photos. I continued flipping through the pages. Every day was a different photo of nature or cars or trains. Day 18 held the oddest photo yet.

It was just of a mask, handcuffs, a gag, and a bottle of some sort of drug it looked like. These people have one hell of a fetish. I try to keep with a video interesting. I zoom into the picture with the camera so everyone can see it. Around day 32, things started getting weird. There was a picture of a house, but not just any house. It was the house I grew up in, my parents' house. My hand covered my mouth as I gasped for air.

What? How is it? I'm unable to form a sentence. I'm on a loss of word. Day 33 I turned the page and see a man and a woman handcuffed and gagged I immediately expel the contents of my stomach as I see my own mum scared and crying face and my dad face first in a pile of what looked like black tar

day 34 this photo is taken inside what looks like a vehicle I focus my gaze to the dashboard where a small photo is barely visible. It's an old school photo of me. They're in my dad's truck. Day 35. Another house, but this one is much smaller. The photo is too blurry to make out and the details.

My hands are trembling and all I can hear is my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I flip to the last page. I immediately throw the book to the ground and run to the wood. window. I jiggle the hatch frantically and throw it open. Without hesitation, I jump out and run to the neighbours. As I'm running, I turn around for a brief second. What I saw me haunts me to this day. A tall hooded figure stood in my room, looking at me through the window. He stood motionless, before lifting his hand and waving. I screamed for my neighbour, who hurried me inside and called the cops. I sat and just cried

I cried out of fear for my life I cried for my parents I cried because it was all my fault my lack of common sense got my parents killed and I will have to live with that forever if you access the deep web do not release any personal information

even if people on YouTube do it most of it's not real and always check your boxes. It would have saved me a lot of trouble if I would have noticed the box I received had no tracking stick right. It was hand delivered. Remember when Deep Web stories were a fad. Every week you'd find a new tale of someone going too far on the Deep Web,

finding something terrible and ending up getting attacked for speaking out against it. Well, this story's a bit similar. The difference is, I still love the Deep Web. Okay, let me explain. I was a senior in high school at the time, and I was definitely no popular kid. My friends were the oddities of the school, the few people who dared to defy the norm.

It was them who told me about the Deep Web, a place on the internet where you are completely unwatched, anonymous, capable of doing whatever you want. Of course, I was intrigued. Most of my friends just use it to buy drugs. But I thought, a little bigger. I wanted to know what happened in the darkest parts of the deep web. Whether or not my friends were telling the truth when they talked about horrible fetish sites and assassins you can hire. to kill anyone you like. Of course, I wasn't planning on using any of it. I've never been particularly interested in sex,

so fetish sites don't interest me. And there's really nobody I'd like to kill. It was the mystery of it all that fascinated me. Going to these sites would be like peering into a side of the world only a few have ever seen, like a wholly new experience. At the time I was tired of the monotony of life. I'd get up at the same time every day,

go to school, attend the same classes, talk to the same people. Go home, play some games, do homework, go to sleep, and then I'd repeat. I wondered if other people got tired of that too. Anyway, it took me a while to actually dive into the deep web. As fascinated as I was, I'd been warned of what could happen to me. I'd read the stories that I talked about earlier too.

How? Who isn't afraid of being threatened by hackers? Or stought by some creep that you piss off online? That kind of shit kept me away from actually going on the deep web until the day I manned up and decided it was time to break the monotony. It was time to delve into the underbelly of the internet. Time to see a world I had only dreamed of.

Well, for the first week or so, it was fucking boring. It was just drug sites and stuff where people exposed government secrets or whatever. Nothing as dark as I'd expected. Now, I don't even do drugs, so that was useless to me. And I wasn't into politics. There wasn't really much I was into back then. So, I was disappointed. The only reason I kept exploring was my sheer desire to experience the world I thought existed on the deep web.

That world was darker than any drug site. That world had murder, torture, fucked up porn for fucked up people, and all sorts of nasty shit. Well, I eventually... got my wish. Just when my apathy towards the deep web got to its highest point, I found what I was looking for. The site didn't have a name. I thought it was a broken link at first, since it only led me to a black screen. Right before I could click out, however, the chat box opened. Someone using the name admin typed in the chat box saying, congrats

you found the worst place on the fucking net I stared at the screen more bemused than afraid it took me a moment to type back cool that's all I said what else was there to say I'm here to see your finest torture porn

a moment after the admin replied you want in i hesitated all those horror stories flooding back into my head but it was too late to chicken out this was what i'd come for even if i just clicked out at the first side of danger i had to see what was there i had to break the fucking monotony i had to know i hastily tight back, not allowing myself to stop. Yeah, the chat box closed and I was led directly to what looked like a video with another chat box next to it. There were around five other people there, each eagerly awaiting for something. The video is in black and white and showed a small room.

The only thing inside was a wooden chair. Until, After around five minutes of waiting, the door to the room opened. A man was shoved inside, blindfolded and naked, save for a pair of black briefs. He was followed by a woman. This one dressed all in black, her face covered by a mask. In an instant the chat room went wild. I almost closed the window to spare myself. knowing immediately where this was going. But again, I told myself that this is what I wanted.

Maybe not the torture, but definitely the window into the very worst parts of the world. The woman pulled a knife from her pocket and cut off the man's blindfold as she shoved him into the chair. He didn't struggle for a moment, and once his eyes were visible, I could see why. It looked like he'd be able. indruck. Resisting was impossible. I frowned, glancing to the side. This was fucked up. I knew this was fucked up. My conscience told me to call the cops, or at least to click out, but I forced myself to watch. She turned to the camera, pointing the knife at the man's throat. One of the people in the chat typed.

One of the fingers. Cut off one of his fingers. I clenched my hands into fists, taking in a sharp breath. Was this really fucking happening? Was I going to just watch as this guy got mutilated, as a small crowd of people watched in glee? I felt like throwing up, a feeling that only worsened when the woman nodded and turned to the man,

grabbing his limp hand and carefully slicing off one of his fingers. Blood spurted from the wound and the man moaned in pain, but he couldn't fight back. Breathing heavily, I hovered my cursor over the X, planning on getting the fuck out of there. But I didn't. The woman looked unimpressed. as if she thought the people in the chat could do better. Another person called for a slice up the man's arm, and she complied.

He was breathing heavily now, clearly in deep pain. But these people, these people were fucking sick. They were cheering her on from the chat, suggesting new and painful tortures for her to inflict. Eventually, I stopped breathing heavily. I stopped feeling sick. It was starting to grow on me. By the end, the man was on the ground, covered in blood and breathing heavily.

I watched this for around half a minute. The people in the chat was starting to die down. They'd inflicted enough pain. They'd had their fun. It seemed like things were wrapping up. Hmm, funny, I thought. How it was over just when I was getting into it. I smirked.

This was exciting. This was better than any game I could play. Much better than any fucking class I could attend. Better than sitting with a group of fucking nobody's pretending like I cared for a god. damn second about them this was the world I wanted to see this was darkness this was the underbelly this was reality fucking end him slits the throat I typed in the chat for the first time she nodded for one last time bringing the man to his feet before slowly dragging her blade across his throat, sending more of his blood spurting out.

Once it was done, she dropped him, and he fell to the ground, limp. He was dead. The people in the chat started complimenting the torturer, talking about how it had been another good time, starting to set a date for the next showing. On screen, the wall. The woman left the room, leaving the corpse behind. Of course, I hastily wrote down the date for the next showing. This was going to be a part of my life now. I was going to be part of something bigger. I was going to command these people's deaths. What a rush. So, Yes, I still love the deep web. I'm in college now, and, well, I'm even more immersed in the deep web.

I've seen shit. Some people would freak out just knowing exists. I fucked around every sick porn site known to man. I've finally broken the monotony of life. Inspirational, right? How one high schooler defies the boredom inherent in his life by discovering his true passion. I love the Deep Web. Whoever reads this, this is Matt.

And this is one of my incomplete cases. If you can see it, then I want you to wrap things up for me. This case covers a very fucked up individual, known on the Deep Web as the Crib Snatcher. Now, before you read any further, look at that name again. This man is one of those cretins who find it acceptable to place children in pornographic settings. All evidence I have has images omitted for obvious reasons. That sick fuck has a lot of images, though.

I'll leave it at that. I've worked with hackers to take down his content before, but we've never been able to positively ID the country. He seemed like he's a ghost. Even authorities have paid attention after many tip-ops of us, but to no avail. All the info we have on him is included with this file. After reading this, I knew I had to help bring this fucker down. I had no clue where to start though.

The information was minimal and just contained online alices that were quite dated. I knew I'd have to ask around about him. The thing is, asking about a child pornographer doesn't make you look very good. I had to go about this very carefully. In my time on the deep web, I'd also met Justice Warriors who'd hunt down these specific individuals and bring down their content. I contacted one of them. I'm going to call them plastic.

Plastic was one of the whistleblowers on Daisy's destruction and helped bring down Peter Scully. If you've never heard of the film, or Scully. It's one of the few times the deep web has leaked onto the clear net. Well, I contacted Plastic and asked about a few of the aliases and gave them a quick rundown of how I got a hold of them. Plastic didn't know anything about all but one of the aliases. Apparently, one of the aliases had been IP tracked a while ago by Plastic and some of their accomplices. Apparently, this guy's been tracked a few times, but any found addresses were shells or public places. It seemed he

really was elusive. Up until now, I haven't given this man a name, but I'll refer to him as this known alias herein. That alias is Long Exposure, 1975. Problem me in plastic had was that long exposure was hard to get a hold of. Turns out, everything he did, he did. It turns out everything he did, was commissioned. That means the numerous images traced back to him were just leaks. If you don't know what that means, it means we'd only seen the tip of the iceberg. We didn't really have a good place to begin, but we did have his last traced IP. It had him placed in a UK mall using the public Wi-Fi a few weeks ago. Turns out, after Matt stopped following long exposure, he kept going and was still tracked by some of plastics acquaintance.

The location hadn't been reported, as police apparently won't act on uploads from public places. Too open to speculation. To me, plastic, that was bullshit. We got lucky with the fact he lives in the UK. It meant I could check things out. Plastic set me up with some tools of the trade that simplified what I was going there to do. I'd have to hack into the intranet at the mall, to gain access to. to the security camera system.

From there, I should be able to download archive footage from the date of the upload, an attempt to find long exposure at the mall. The hardest part should be finding an Ethernet port to hook my laptop up to. Set off for the mall. The town it was in was a fair drive away from my apartment, so I had to set out pretty early. By the time I got there, I was dying for a caffeine boost, so I headed for a small, unbranded coffee shop

and downed an espresso like Yeager on a Saturday night. From there I began my quest for an Ethernet port. I never knew how hard this would actually be, but I eventually found a computer store that ran repairs. I knew they'd have usable Ethernet ports in there somewhere. I went in under the premise of getting my laptop's Wi-Fi fixed. I stressed that the Etherport worked fine, but it wouldn't connect to Wi-Fi.

Before going in, I ran some of the scripts plastic had supplied to me. The moment he'd plug it into the Ethernet, it'd start running the programs that were gain administrative access and let me access all connected devices. From there, I could run the snooper plastic supplied to gain access to the computer responsible for the CCTV. The store clerk happily took my laptop off my hands

and came back to me a few minutes later, telling me I'd just turn my Wi-Fi off. I feigned embarrassment and thanked him for helping. He didn't charge me, probably because he found it funny how stupid someone would have to be to miss that. Once away from the store, I connected to the closed network with the credentials plastic's code had stolen. Once inside, I gained access to the CCTV computer as planned. This was where there was a hiccup. The drives the CCTV archives were stored on required a password to access. I had no clue where to begin, and plastic hadn't supplied me with any way to get around this.

I decided it was time to do some detective work. I could access the PC's Outlook application from my laptop. I filtered through the emails to try and find any emails about passwords. All I found was one. from a few months ago about the access to the drives being restricted to the more management. I'd have to find out who had that password. I backed out to the list of connected computers and found one marked Management Zero-Zer1 and connected to it. It seems the last logged-in user was a lady by the name of Anne Wilkins. Obviously I changed the

name here. I decided I'd have to get a hold of her and get her to hand over the files herself. But there was no way she'd hand over the files to a random guy. I'd have to go about this a different way. I went through her emails and found the name of her boss. I then logged into his account and sent an email from it telling her that a police detective by the name of Ryan would be coming to collect CCTV files in reference to an ongoing case. I added that due to the sensitivity of the case. She wasn't to ask about anything. I'd just have to hope that she wouldn't ask her ID because if she did, I'd have to blag my way through it. I got a prompt reply from her saying she'd head down to customer service and wait for Ryan there. I made my way over,

practically shaking from anxiety of what would happen if this went wrong. Impersonating an officer was a pretty serious crime. When he arrived, I gave my name and I was a very serious crime. When I arrived, I gave my name and asked for her. She came out and greeted me. She looked a bit aged and weary. I took that as a good sign and showed her my driver's license. She read it and smiled. A small chill of relief ran through me.

Sure thing, officer. I grabbed the files from the date you asked for. I even got them in a USB stick for you. I laughed a little and accepted the flash drive. Thank you, ma'am. I just hope it'll get us closer on this case. She continued her well-practiced smile and added, Also, officer, if you're thirsty or hungry, you can drop by chauffeurs on the way out and grab a coffee and a bite on me.

Just say Anne referred you. I nodded and thanked her. Well, I'd just have to take her up on that offer. I grabbed myself a cappuccino and grilled cheese. I sat at one of the tables and began sifting through the files. The only thing I had to go on was the 1975 in London. long exposure's name and the posting time. I was looking for a 43-year-old man who was using a mobile device at 6pm. I had my work cut out for me. I had to watch about 20 minutes worth of

footage to account for upload time with tens of cameras to look through. After overstaying my freebies, I paid from my own coffee a few more times. I managed to track the potential culprits down to five people when I realized I was still logged in to Anne's boss's email. I saw he'd received one from her saying she'd handed over the CCTV files to me, and one was sent from him mere minutes ago saying he'd never heard anything about Orion. I was rumbled. I had to get the fuck out of there fast. I got out of the coffee shop. Right, by the exit, there were six guards, all of them clearly waiting for me. Another two were heading towards the coffee shop. I ducked into the subway next door and sat down. I was hoping I wouldn't have to use this but. Plastic had given me a

last resort, aptly called nuke.exe. I didn't know exactly what it would do, but she told me I'd have to get ready to run after using it. I ran it. After five seconds, the piece of the piece of The PA system screeched and all the electronics cut out. There were a good few shouts as the PA screeched, followed by confused mutters and shouts from security for everyone to stay calm. People began filtering out the main entrance. I joined them, taking my leave of them all unaware as to the security. Once I was safely home, I watched all of the potential culprit's visits from beginning to end.

Two of them were with families, so I doubted it would be them. Another one seemed to be there for a business meeting. This checked them off for now. That left me with two people. One of them didn't seem too suspicious. They just went to the supermarket and got groceries, got a coffee, and left. The other, however, did something quite creepy, given who they might be. They went to a children's clothing.

outlet and bought what seemed to be girls' clothes and some stuffed toys. I marked him up as my prime suspect. I traced his exit. He had an old fort. Luckily, the entrance exit to the car park had a higher quality camera to read plates. I got his plate number and called it a day. I sent my findings to plastic and caught some sleep. I woke up just a few hours later. Plastic had gotten the files I sent and ran the plate using a colleague of theirs. It belonged to a John Barden. Now that, that is a real name. Normally I would sense the names, but I'm making a special case here.

I don't condone witch hunts, but do what you will. She'd forward the name to informants and apparently a case was being built. I felt a little bit of closure. as I finished off the first of Matt's unfinished cases. But, well, I'd barely begun. There were still more cases to go, and I had a lot of work ahead. Looks like I'm just getting started with the case files. And so once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast.

My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories, and to you for taking the time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favor of you, wherever you get your podcast wrong, please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.