Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - A Dark Web Hacker Murdered my Wife...

Episode Date: April 12, 2021

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Talk to nicely. Hello, everyone. I hope you're all having an outstanding day today. But if you're not, I hope I'm able to make it better for you. I first want to take a moment to give a shout out to my new Patreon supporters, Sammy, Emily, D, Supreme Grape Lord, Fernando, and Kinga. Thank you guys so much. Your support truly means the world to me.

And now that you all have exclusive access, you can enjoy all the bonus episodes I release on my Patreon page every Saturday at 1 p.m. Eastern Time. Now back to the story. It was another tireless night at work. As it often did, time had managed to sneak away from me as I dutifully read through countless stacks of papers, each more boring than the last.

As I realized the clock was about to hit 11 in the evening, I started to dread the trek home, knowing I'd get an earful for my loving wife. She'd been complaining a lot about my hours, which in a way made sense, seeing as they practically doubled as we moved. She just lost her job during the pandemic, and while she definitely understood, she was all alone.

And it definitely didn't help that she was also a bit paranoid in nature, living in a large but old house, one that creaked with each step and screamed as the wind held through the unfurnished halls. It was kind of eerie, but we just moved. We needed time to make it feel like a proper home. Once I'd finished the last page, I threw the documents crudely into a folder and hurried to pack my things. As I did, I heard it peeing a murmur.

from my computer. I worried it might be more work, and considered whether or not I should just pretend I didn't hear it. After all, it was after hours and whatever it was, could wait until morning, but I had to know what it was. So I opened my inbox, relieved to find a non-work-related message. Hey, Gary, how are you doing? It read. It was my wife. She was the only person in the world who ironically called me that, after accidentally getting my name wrong on the first date. It had become sort of an inside joke, but the email it came from was somehow blocked. Hey, hon, I swear I'm on my way home. Time just got away from me, I typed in, hoping she wasn't too mad that I had missed dinner for the nth time. No problem, but maybe I can tempt you a bit. Do you have time for a chat?

Her suggestion sounded mildly provocative, but knowing our work emails were under constant supervision, I was hesitant. Come on, you know they'll see this, I argued. I know, so come talk to me here. She sent back with a blinking smile. She wasn't talking about our home, but rather a link she'd shared with me in the same message. Suspicious but curious, I opened it. With that, I was brought to a strange, dark-looking website on a browser I couldn't recognize. While I'd never been a computer aficionado,

I'd like to think I knew my work computer pretty well, but that was something new entirely. It was called a Tor browser, and the website was all too basic. I see you found me. Seems like I did. So what's with all the mystery? I asked. Intrigued and mildly nervous.

I want you to think, Gary. What's your favorite memory? She asked. What do you mean? Of us, tell me. I thought long and hard, hoping not only to find something I enjoyed, but something she'd agree with.

It had to be a moment that meant something deeper. So I decided to tell her about the moment I knew for sure that I loved her. We'd been dating six months. I was taking you out for a picnic in the infinite fields around my childhood home. There was this forest, so dense and hardly ever traversed by anyone, except for those who'd grown up there. I'd found an opening in the dense vegetation, a place so dark at night that the entire galaxy stared down at us. I didn't tell you where we were

going, nor why I'd chosen exactly that spot. We ate, we drank wine, we made love as the sun set in the distance, and then we fell asleep under the open sky without even bothering to set up a tent. Of course I'd read the forecast. It was supposed to stay warm, but then a storm came out of nowhere, waking us up as thunder shook through the clouds. We screamed and struggled to get the tent up in a rush, and I half expected you to be angry, but instead you just laughed. Even when my entire plan had been shattered, and we were soaking wet from ice-cold water, you still had a good time. That's when I knew that I loved you. The wall of text sat on the screen for a couple of minutes as I eagerly awaited response. In that moment, I felt so incredibly smooth, as if I'd chosen the perfect memory.

That's beautiful, Gary. It was odd that she still referred to me as Gary. She'd usually just greet me like that, but overusing the joke kind of took the fun away from it. I want you to visualize that moment. Think about it as if you are still there in that opening. I'm sending you a little gift, she said. A gift? Like here at work? Yes. Why not let me just come home and get it? I asked. Come on, it wouldn't be as fun, she argued. The mystery was coming close to unbearable, yet I had to admit that I quite enjoyed her efforts to spark some passion into our otherwise boring routine. It made me feel young again, as we'd just met so desperate to impress each other. So what do I do in the meantime? I asked. Just wait, imagine, and enjoy the memories.

Shouldn't take more than 20 minutes. I'll send you a message as soon as it gets there. 15 minutes was a bit much considering I only lived 10 minutes away from work by car. I could have easily gotten there in that time, but I figured she needed some time to prepare. So I sat back and started to reminisce about our youth. We'd been so passionate back then, inseparable since the day I accidentally bumped into her at a restaurant, causing half a bottle of wine to spill under her. As clumsy as I was, she took me up on my offer to buy her a drink, which she jokingly threw at my shirt to get even.

Then the two of us sat there covered in wine as we shared our first few words. I needed to bring that magic back into our relationship, and when she'd taken the first step, I'd be damned if I didn't keep fanning the flames. I would be better. I promised myself that much. Spend less time at work. Focus more on our relationship.

There I sat, trying to plan how I could be a better husband, coming up with romantic ideas as the clock ticked down. Then I finally got another message. It's lying on the doorstep. Why don't you go have a look? she suggested. Oh, and message me back when you see it. I rushed to the door, where I found a neatly wrapped present lying just outside. I picked it up, realizing just how light it felt compared to its size.

I brought it back to my computer, where another message had popped up. Have fun, it read. With those words, I ripped the paper apart and opened the box. The sight of what I found inside caused me to immediately drop it onto the ground, allowing a single, severed finger to roll out onto the floor. The finger wore a red nail polish and a wedding ring. It belonged to my wife. I immediately turned my attention towards the screen to see if it was some kind of sick prank, but the chat box had vanished.

Without hesitation, I called the police, who arrived at the house just a moment before myself. As I tried to rush inside, an officer stopped me. The door was clearly broken, and there were uniformed men carrying out a covered-up gurney. My wife was lying on it, dead and mutilated beauty. recognition. They never let me near the body. They just showed me some covered up pictures for identification. One of them is just a photo of her unique shoulder tattoo. What happened to my wife?

I asked in shock as they questioned me. Someone broke into your house. From reports, we assume it happened around nine o'clock, the officer said. Nine o'clock. I was supposed to be home by then, but I'd been working overtime as I so frequently did. But I spoke to her later than that, I argued, still not believing the words he spoke. It wasn't her. Someone wanted to keep you busy, pretending to be her. You sure you didn't realize something was wrong? No, they... I don't...

The words froze in my throat. Had I just ignored the strange, fake messages, and gone home when I planned to, she might have still been alive. My wife died that day, just before midnight. If not for the overtime and the chat, I could have saved her, but I didn't. And I can't ever forgive myself for that.

Thanks for listening. Please take a second and leave a rating. Also, don't forget to check out my animated horror stories on YouTube. Just search Dr. No Sleep in the search bar to find my channel. Lasagne surgelley, puissance-molyne for 15 minutes. We're like it's their dojo. Pre-to-joo?

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