Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - 4 Dark Web Horror Stories (Compilation of April 2021)

Episode Date: April 19, 2021

✅ Get access to all my bonus episodes HERE: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep Author of the 4th story: P. F. McGrail ✅ P. F. McGrail’s NEW Book: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08M8YR7N5 ✅ P. F. McGrail’s Subreddit: www.reddit.com/r/ByfelsDisciple ✅ Dr. NoSleep YouTube channel: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep ✅ Dr. NoSleep Merchandise: teespring.com/stores/dr-nosleep-merch #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Talk to nicely. For those not familiar with the concept, these places are basically kill sites that are designed to allow viewers from across the globe to log into the dark web and see people get tortured, raped, gored, murdered, and God knows what else. Think BDSM, necrophiliacs, hate porn, and times it by about a hundred and you get the basic idea. Most of the people who wind up in one of these never come back out.

And then there's me, the janitor. I think my job is actually the most important of all. Usually when I go in, the entire place needs a scrub from top to bottom. These perverts don't give a damn what they do, as long as they get their money. And I know what you're thinking. Why haven't I reported this to the police, the FBI, or anyone else? Because I'm sure by now you've got to be asking. How the hell does someone get a job like this?

It was early 1999. Craig's List was still a pretty popular thing. I responded to an ad. As simple as that sounds, I was desperate for money, didn't care what the job entailed. I drove to a sketchy strip club just outside of Detroit

and talked to a man named Mori. Actually, to be honest, I don't know if that was his name. I was so high to calm my nerves that I can't remember those finer details. And the rules he gave me were simple enough to obey. Mori passed me an old school Nokia.

This phone is now your livelihood. Every Sunday, you'll get coordinates. Wait 13 minutes. and then gather whatever supplies you need before arriving at sight. You'll clean up and then leave. Don't talk to anyone there. Don't ever stay too long or arrive too early. When you are done, you will get a new burner phone for the next job

if the client thinks your work is up to par, he said with a sneer. How could I mess that up, right? At the time I had no clue what I was about to get into, but I soon found out a week later. It isn't every day you walk into a warehouse that has blood on the ceiling and body parts strewn about like loose tex. I nearly hurled. But somehow I pulled it together and managed to clean the place. I got paid $100,000. That was the price of my silence. Seeing that much money all at once sent me into shock.

But it also hooked me to being under their thumb all these years. So you might ask why after all this time am I coming forward now? As selfish as it sounds, I found out something far worse than even the normal debauchery they were doing. It was a normal job like all the rest. but for some reason I got there early. I figured maybe since this client was offering a bigger payday, that punctuality was a big deal. Instead, I walked in on the scene. I froze as I stared at a hooded man holding a gun to the head of the victim.

The victim shared the same facial expression as me. His appearance was strikingly similar to mine, like I was staring into my own reflection. That I walked as the hooded man blew his brains out. You were told to never arrive early, the client said. They refused to pay me. pushed me out to the street like I was trashed. If you ever tell anyone of what you saw here,

you'll be the next one we take, he said. I didn't have the words to describe how overwhelmed I was. But above all else, I needed to be sure I wasn't hallucinating. So I waited until the next cleaner came. I figured, if anything, I could check the body for prints to see if maybe it really was an exact replica of me. To my surprise and astonishment, 13 minutes later, I saw another version of myself walk into the warehouse to clean.

I was there waiting for him when he got out. He looked 10 years younger, but it was clearly no mistake this time. What the hell? he asked. They've used clones all along, I realized. Both of us fled, too scared for words to even comprehend this insanity. I don't know where we are going or whether we are being followed. I just know somewhere out there, there's a room waiting for me. I just started a summer job where I was basically a custodian,

cleaning classrooms in preparation for the upcoming. school year, my dad worked for the town's district, so he was able to get me this job. I was the youngest one there, as I was only 20 at the time. There was a handful of people who worked with me. They were usually off doing other tasks, like waxing the floors or covering up foul writing on the walls with paint. The schools were completely empty besides the staff who were cleaning. Things were going fine my first couple of weeks, for the most part I was on my own. wiping down desks and dusting while listening to music. It was nice, and I enjoyed not having someone on my ass all day telling me what to do.

After I'd finished cleaning the middle school, the head custodian had sent me and another woman. We call her Karen. She was my other co-worker, who would usually assist me when cleaning the high school. She was a slacker. I would often go outside to smoke cigarettes. She didn't really care what I did. and was always off doing whatever she wanted.

So yeah, basically, I was alone. Again, I don't mind because I liked the freedom. But I was taking up the bulk of the work. After a few days, I finally finished cleaning all the hallways. Now it was time to move into the basement. The robotics and woodworking classes were down here. I didn't think anything of it until I got down there. I noticed light was peeking through under the doorway of the classroom.

The windows of the class were covered with shades. I found this really odd, since it was summer, and no one was in the building besides Karen and I. I walked over and peaked in the door window. The lamp was on at the desk, but no one was inside. I proceeded to knock. No answer. After turning the knob, I realised the door was locked,

so I used my key to open the door, and musty smell flooded my nose. I decided to scope out the room. Maybe someone had forgotten to turn the lamp off. I disregarded that idea when I noticed the computer at a teacher's desk was on. The screen looked weird. I'd never seen this layout before. The website was all black with red writing on it.

It also had a chat box. I didn't have time to read the chat because a sudden voice came from the doorway. Can I help you? It was a man. Maybe in his early 40s. About six feet tall. Oh, uh, sorry, I'm just cleaning the classrooms. I didn't know if anyone was in here, I said, in an embarrassed tone.

Ah, so I see. Well, I appreciate that, but don't worry about it in here. I'm, uh, working on a few things, so sawdust is going to get everywhere again after you cleaning. He said in this very strange way. Like, he was hiding something. He walked over and sat at his desk while closing the browser. Okay, no problem, I said, as I proceeded to the door. Wait, could I ask you a favor?

He said in a delirious way. Uh, yeah, sure. I didn't really know what he was about to ask. and I couldn't find myself to say no. I just wanted to get out of there, as I was already creeped out. I have this petition. It's to get more funding for the extracurricular classes. Like art and woodworking.

He sounded so uncertain as if he made that up out of thin air. Sure, I paused from me. when he handed me the paper. It only had two other names on it. The petition required a full name, phone number, email and address. I immediately felt uncomfortable, but I didn't know how to decline. So I just added my information. Thank you so much, dear.

You have a beautiful bone structure, by the way. He said in such a creepy way. Thanks. I'd grabbed my cleaning supplies and speeded out of there. After that experience, I didn't really put much thought into it. Yeah, he was creepy. But I didn't really have much evidence to persuade myself that he was out to get me or something.

Until I started running into him throughout the school, it became pretty frequent. It's as though he was watching me. Now I was concerned. I dismissed it because he'd just smile at me or, Wave if I saw him. Maybe I was overreacting. I mean, he was a teacher there after all.

Still, my gut feeling was telling me something wasn't right. Weeks went on, I started to notice him less and less. I only had a few more weeks at this job and then back to college I go. One day, boss let everyone out early since it was almost a hundred degrees. I got home and decided to hang up with some friends. a group of us, about five or six. My boyfriend's brother joined us this time, which was unusual, since he's not really a social person. He's really into technology, so he's always on his computer which he built himself. He's also good at hacking and stuff like that. Anyways, that day, he told

me he needed to talk to me, and it was serious. He brought me into my friend's living room and pulled out his laptop. To my surprise, It was on the deep web. So... You were up for bid on the deep web, he hesitated. Wait. What? I knew how the deep web worked.

I would often listen to horror stories, but I'd never been on it. So how would my info ever be out there? It suddenly clicked. The web page matched the one I saw in the classroom a month back. I had also given my info to that guy. My heart felt like it dropped to my stomach. I explained this to my boyfriend's brother. He advised me to call the police immediately.

Which is what we did. They did an investigation on the teacher and found the activity on his computer. Not only that, but... He had several girls' information along with pictures. Some of the girls were minors too. There were also wooden contraptions they found in his house. home, which it probably made in the shop. You probably plan to use them on these girls or

me. I was disgusted, but relieved that he was caught. I often wonder, what would have happened if the page was never discovered? Would he have kidnapped me and killed me online for these sick people? I don't know, and I don't want to know. I changed my number and moved since the incident. Just goes to show you can never give out your personal information. As a computer programmer, part of my job is to keep the firewall up and running for the rest of my coworkers. As strange as it sounds, that requires I find the cracks in the defense and understand how the viruses work. So I'm usually scouring the internet tracking down different content that most people would shy away from. Sadly, though, I'm also an impulse buyer.

When I see things that interest me, I grab them right away. And a lot of this stuff isn't found anywhere else. To be honest, I'm not too scared about the so-called Dark Web. Most of that stuff is monitored by the FBI anyway. What is strange, though, are the bizarre markets you find out there. Dark Web is like illegal shit and also, well, it's obscure. Like, for example, this latest item. A soul.

Like seriously, I couldn't help but to click on it. It didn't look like anything special. Just sort of this weird-looking crystal ball thing that looked like it belonged in a gypsy stall. But according to the seller, it was a gypsy. genuine soul. I figured if anything, it could be a good conversation piece at parties. Once it came in the mail, though, things got weirder. The ball was heavy, probably more so than anything I had ever lifted in my life. And when I touched it, my body felt this weird energy rushed through me.

I set it down on my table to examine it a little closer, trying to determine if maybe it was one of those weird electrical current devices I had heard of. Instead, to my utter amazement, the strange glowing things. started to talk. Stake your name. It said. The voice was neither male nor female. I can only describe it as inhuman.

I felt like it was compelling me to talk, so for reasons I don't understand, I told it. Alan Walker, I said loudly. The crystal ball seemed to respond with a variety of shimmering colors on its surface, and then it suddenly went dark. I tried to determine if maybe it was malfunctioning, so I lifted it up again, and this time was surprised to find that it was as light as a feather. light as a feather. I shook it gently, wanting something else to happen. Suddenly it felt like I was holding a hot cold, and I let go instinctively. And then it burst from my hands and floated in the air. I stumbled backward to the wall, surprised by how hot the thing had become. Alan Walker, it repeated.

The voice sounded exactly like me now. Something from the middle of the glowing orb shot out and hit me straight in my chest, like it was trying to extract something from my body. A thousand different screams came from the orb. I struggled to fight against it and grab the device, pushing it down to the ground. In one swift blow, I smashed it to pieces. I heard hundreds of thousands of voices shout joyfully a strange, iridescent light screamed in every direction, and I shielded my eyes. When it was all over, I finally understood. This device was capturing their very essence, and being moved from place to place to gather more souls. Somehow, despite the fact that I had smashed it up, the glowing orb managed to reform into a solid black sphere. It was cold and lifeless now.

All the life it had taken, gone. I could only think of one thing now to do with the discovery I had made. With the simple cardboard box and a few stamps, I placed it back on my front box with one demand. Return to sender. Maybe whoever had sent this dark magic here could now suffer the same ordeal. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Okay, I need to get myself together. I need to get my head on straight. Oh, fuck. I'm not the type to get involved in this kind of shit,

but my asshole friend, NIF kept bugging me. I blame him, partially. Just get a Tor browser and bam. Everything you could want, man. I didn't know what a Tor browser was, but I wanted him to shut up. And yes, fuck me, I was curious. I'm such an idiot.

See, I got all excited at first. We delivery right to my doorstep, which is not legal where I live. Every type of porn, I'm talking weird shit, was infinitely available. Red Tube didn't do it for me after I was able to spend $10 telling three women in a darkened basement to do the nastiest things to each other for half an hour. I know. I'm trash. We humans have a profound ability to justify our own behavior to ourselves. Get away with it once, and morality becomes relative.

I told myself that I wasn't hurting anybody, that everything was consensual. But I was a teenager living at home, and I couldn't afford the lifestyle I signed up for. Did that stop me from ordering a continual stream of designer weed? No. No, it did not. When I tried to pay a bill that my bank wouldn't allow, I figured that I would just tell my nameless, faceless dealer that I only had $19.13 in my account and could not afford the hundred bucks I owed. I thought things would be cool. Remember how I said I was a fucking idiot?

The clandestine dark web drug dealer was not cool with it, not at all. That's how I learned that you shouldn't piss off the residents of the dark web, especially if it's about money, especially if your dumbass has given them your home address, never thinking twice about the risks associated with offering that kind of information. After all, we give it to those bastards at Amazon, right? Shit. I didn't realize how much trouble.

I'd caused until I got home. I had the house to myself for a couple of hours, so I decided that it was high time to look up some of my favorite dark web actresses. But I was distracted by a large window on my desktop. It was a simple link to red place. onion, which I'd never seen before. I clicked it. Yes, we've been over the fact that I'm an idiot. My breath stopped when I was taken to a live feed of women gagged and bound to a chair in a poorly lit concrete cellar. The mascara streaming down her cheeks told me she'd been crying. Every organ in my body felt like it was slowly turning on a rotisserie spit. My gut assured me that this footage was very, very real, and that the feed was live. A chat window appeared. Bids are open. It started. Price for one finger. Several offers popped

up, $2, $5.50. A man stepped into the screen. His face was hidden beneath a dark ski mask, and he wore a black garbage bag that had been fashioned into a cloak. He pulled out a large, rusty chef's knife. The woman's eyes grew saucer wide, and she moaned frantically. I bid is $5 to choose a finger. I felt like I was high, high enough to puke right then and there. He was auctioning which finger to sever. Someone had bid 50 cents.

I typed as well as I could with shaking fingers. $10 to not chop off her fingers. The man froze. Then he typed something. Transfer $10 now, or $5 wins the auction. I almost didn't make it in time, because my fingers had taken a core shaking life of their own, but I sent the money to a link he provided, draining half of my bank account. No fingers chopped. I almost cried. Bids are open, price for toes. Almost immediately another message erupted.

$10 for toes do not outbid. I vomited just a little. A tiny chunk of puke shot up my throat and lodged itself in my sinus. I didn't have time to clear it out. $15 to not chop any toes, I typed. Then he looked into the camera. He looked right at me, and it was clear that he knew our gazes were locked on one another. He typed one sentence, $15 now. My hands were flying on their own accord, and I had initiated the transfer in under 10 seconds. Insufficient funds. My bladder control slipped. Then I was sprinting to my parents' office, tearing their desk apart. until I found a checkbook and a spare debit card that I knew was hidden in the bottom drawer. I got back in time to see her rocking back and forth,

banging her head, gurgling against the gag as the man worked on her feet. I wanted to throw up, to run away, to tear out my eyes. Anything other than watch him sever and innocent woman's toe while the dark web gleefully watched. The chat box was flooded with gleeful messages cheering him on, telling him to make it slow, asking to hear her screams. To listen to the rest of this bonus episode, check out my Patreon page. at patreon.com slash DR No Sleep. For only $5 per month,

you'll get access to all exclusive bonus episodes just like this one by becoming a Doctor No Sleep patron. I post new episodes on my Patreon page every Saturday at 1 p.m. Eastern Time. You can get access to these exclusive episodes today by going to patreon.com slash DR No Sleep. Thank you so much for your support. Lazzang sur-joled,

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