Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Dark Web Horror Story | Are you next?

Episode Date: April 8, 2022

🎉 Ad-free episodes + bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎧 Check out The SCP Experience podcast here: https://spoti.fi/3zCFjQc 🎥 YouTube: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep �� Send all advertising inquiries to: [e-mail] DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content. Parental guidance is advised for children under the age of 18. Listen at your own discretion. #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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surreal. Sci-fi vision comes at the best show streaming right now. We're running out of time and we still don't know the rules. Don't miss what the movie blog calls something you need to watch. Saving those children is how we all go home. From Binge All Episodes exclusively on Paramount Plus. Last thing you'll ever see is the reflection of a strange creature on your computer screen. When you turn to face it, your life will end.

Those were the final words posted on the dark website I'd stupidly clicked on, a foolish journey I'd set out on due to terminal boredom. Just a few clicks that would be my undoing. But I still have some time until I meet my end, and I'd like everyone to know what really happened to me. We all know the websites that check whether or not your email password has been leaked. It's honestly a great resource, safe and reliable. If it turns out that your information is, in fact, out there.

Don't be alarmed. Just make sure you enable two-step verification and change your passwords for good measure. Good practice is to use different passwords for your various online presences. So ideally, you'll have to just change one. That is the easy part. But what if other aspects of your personal life have been leaked? What if your address is floating around on a dark web page as a potential target? What if your private text messages, hidden desires, wrongdoings and greatest fears

are put online for all the world to see. Honestly, you'd be better off not knowing. At least then, your death would come as a surprise. You might experience a minute of fear followed by a moment of pain, a luxury. But for those that know when and how will die, we lie awake at night, just waiting. Alas, I was of the curious kind growing up,

and I took that curse with me well into the beginning of adulthood. One of my daily vices was binging through dark web pages. I'd boot up my computer in the evening, open the Tor browser, and go around hunting bizarre and fantastic onion links. While most of it was just weird conspiracy pages that were designed like something out of the late 90s, there were some sinister markets selling drugs and sometimes weapons. Only on one occasion did I ever stumble upon a place offering discount assassinations.

Kill a stranger, $2,000 U.S. dollars. The first line read, A small price to take a life. Family members and friends, on the other hand, cost more just for the risk of discovering a motive. The site even offered celebrity and politician assassinations, but they were unfathomably expensive. Not that it mattered.

The site was most like a honeypot. For those who don't know, an online honeypot is a seemingly malicious site or file put up by the FBI, always tracked and monitored to catch criminals. You'd think you were hiring an assassin, but you'd actually be walking into a trap. Good on them, I suppose. But that's not the site that would come to end my short span on this planet. No, the site I found was one that played with my emotions for months on end

before finally striking. It was a simple page with a simple title. Are you next? Obviously, I'm not going to provide the actual site info. I wouldn't wish this fate upon my worst enemy. But people need to know what's out there, just as a warning to stay safe. I had no idea what to expect upon entering the page. But what I was met with froze me in place.

All I saw was a picture of myself. One I didn't recognize. It was placed on a dark background with some text on. underneath. Name Lawrence Witherford, date of birth, 7th of August, 1994. Address, 2963, Ashmore Drive. At the bottom there was a button to click that simply asked, am I next? A thousand thoughts ran through my mind as I tried to figure out the trick. The most logical explanation was that they'd used my IP address or some local data on my computer to conjure idle threats, but they That wouldn't explain the picture.

With trembling fingers and a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins, I clicked the button and awaited my fate. Darkness. That was all it was, and my own reflection in the cheap monitor on my desk. Seconds passed as I waited for any kind of update. Then some text appeared. Did you see anything behind you? It asked.

Apart from the familiarity of my own room, there was nothing there. You survived, Lawrence. Today's victim was Zach Johnson. A picture appeared of the supposed victim. Like my own, it seemed the subject wasn't aware that he was being photographed. He was just walking around, minding his own business as someone snapped a picture. Had he really been a victim?

If so, what did it actually mean to be next? It was eerie, and I had to admit that I was slightly freaked out. But it had to be a trick. One my insatiable curiosity needed to have answered, the unknown picture of myself remained the biggest mystery. Feeling defeated, I turned to one of my friends for help. Anton was more of a tech genius than myself, so I sent him a copy of the picture

and asked him to seek it out online, just to see if any of my friends or fail. family had uploaded it without my permission. He said he was busy, but I kept pressing him until he realized something was wrong. Why does it matter so much? It's not like it's a nude or a bad picture, he stated. Initially, I didn't want to tell him, partially out of shame. But the more I refused, the more he wanted to know.

A small fight followed, but in the end I caved in and told him about the site. Fine, I'll check it out. Has to be a trick, though, he confidently stated. A few hours passed while I waited for Anton to check the site out. Once he finally responded to my messages, he seemed mildly on edge. All right, I admit it. I'm freaked out. Did you put that picture up there? I'm not in the mood to be messed with. I'm not messing with you. Why would I put my own picture on the dark web? I asked. I'm not talking about yours. He said, Which picture are you talking about then?

I asked, growing increasingly confused. The one taken from outside my window. The one on the damn sight, he said. No, I didn't. You're there too? I asked. Look, you had your fun, now stop it. Please tell me this is a joke.

Anton, it wasn't me. Then what the hell have you gotten us into? He asked. The conversation didn't go much further from there. We were both clueless as to what it happened, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. I saved the site information, but decided to let it rest until Anton could figure things out. Over the next few days, he'd send me periodic updates about the little info he could gather. While no one knew exactly who had started the page, several anonymous users gave vague warnings as to what being next meant.

But despite the mystery surrounding the place, there was one resounding fact everyone could agree upon. Stay away from that place. About a week into the investigation, Anton stopped responding to my messages. I tried calling him, but he remained silent. Once most of the day had passed, I started to worry that something might have happened to him. According to his place of work, he hadn't shown up for days. On a twisted hunch, I decided to check the website. Once again, I saw my picture alongside the same ominous text asking whether or not I am next.

I clicked the button and saw my own reflection as before. Then the daily victim appeared on the screen. Anton Madden. I dropped everything to call the police. Though my initial explanation put more suspicion onto myself, they promised that get around to it when they had time. but I knew soon would be too late. I drove over to his house and hammered on his door.

Of course, there was no response. After a minute of trying to break through his door, I decided to go for one of the living room windows and climbed inside. Anton! I yelled as I frantically ran towards his office. I knew that's where the computer was, and I knew he'd be sitting there. The only thing I couldn't say was whether or not he was still alive.

As I barged into his office, I immediately froze dead in my tracks. Anton was there, still in the chair, facing the computer. But he wasn't moving, not even breathing. Anton? I said with a trembling voice as I approached him, slowly turning his chair around. I almost threw up from the sight. His face had been completely removed, replaced with little more than a mangled mess of meat, with most of the underlying skull ripped away.

If not for a few tangles of skin and a couple of teeth still attached, I wouldn't have known what I was looking at. Anton had died, and it was my fault. I sat by his mangled corpse in shock until the police arrived. They had more than a few questions as to how I knew he'd be dead and why he'd passed in such a grotesque manner. But those were all questions I could never answer in any believable fashion. But despite the horrors I had just witnessed, one horrible fact still remained.

I was on the list, and one day, I would meet the same bait. The authorities looked into the website, but there was nothing they could do to take it down or track those responsible. I tried moving around. I even tried changing my own legal name. Nothing worked. The site just kept updating. months and months of attempting a hopeless escape, my name and picture still remained.

I knew it would only be a matter of time until I was taken to. And that day came today. On a daily basis, I'd load up the site to check if it was my turn to die. In fact, I'd become so used to it that the black screen and the wait for an answer no longer bothered me. It was just an automatic process I obsessively went through. But now that has all changed. I opened this site and was met by my own picture just like usual. Then I clicked the button and the screen turned dark.

But rather than jumping to a black screen, I was met with the following message. The last thing you'll ever see is the reflection of a strange creature on your computer screen. When you turn to face it, your life will end. my computer screen faded to black and the only thing that deviated from the usual was the reflection. Like always, I could see my own pale face. But there was something more, something standing behind me. It was in the corner of my room, a twisted silhouette, too thin and too stretched to be human. Its face was hidden out of view to its height. My first instinct had been to turn around, but I was frozen for long enough to let the message sink in.

I would die when I faced it, which meant I would have just enough time to ponder what kind of horrible pain I'd endure before my face was ripped to shreds. My phone was out of reach by my bed, so calling for help wasn't an option. I tried to log in to various social media sites to contact the outside world,

but the websites had somehow blocked them. As a last resort, I opened a text document to write down my last words, the very words you are reading right now. This is the story I leave you with to let the world know what happened to me. But I am getting impatient. I think it's time to face my end. Goodbye. Lazzang sur-gillet,

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