Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Dark Web Horror Story | Born Again for Death

Episode Date: January 19, 2022

🎧 Check out The SCP Experience podcast here: https://spoti.fi/3zCFjQc Author: Matt Doggett Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/MatthewDoggettAuthor/ Website/Newsletter sign up: matthewdoggettauthor.com 🎉 Ad-free episodes + bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎥 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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$0. DePosos $0. Conditions apply. Talk to no sleep. Before we get into this next story, I want to thank Tara, Kieran, and Phosphorus Art for joining my Patreon. Your support goes a long way.

For all of you who would like to gain access to my bonus episodes as well, head on over to my Patreon page at patreon.com slash DR No Sleep. Thanks again. Now time for the story. I've spent a lot of time surfing the web over the course of the pandemic. Even after the restrictions started lightening up, I've been. found that I didn't really want to go out much anymore. I've made some good friends in chat forums over the course of the lockdown. One person, a guy named Sean, has become one of my best friends.

We share the same dark sense of humor. We feel the same way about most people. We like the same music and movies, and we both feel we can't be our true selves around most others, like we have to put on a polite mask in public. He just gets me. He's a better friend than any I've made in real life, that's for sure. Or, at least I thought he was a good friend. That didn't turn out to be true. But my relationship with Sean is important to explain how I got to this point, how I came to the crossroads that I'm at now. I've got a decision to make, and I don't have long to do it. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me go back to after Sean and I first started chatting online. We're both big fans of computer effects. In fact, we met. We're met. We've met. We've been a lot of,

in a forum discussing the blunder software that many people used to make computer-generated videos. We hit it off right away, exchanging email addresses and phone numbers. Then we started sending videos to each other to see if we could guess by looking at them, whether they were real or fake. I'd try to stump him, and he'd try to stump me. At first, it was pretty easy. If you know what to look for, you can spot telltale signs of computer graphics. But it got pretty hard after all.

after a while. It became a kind of obsession. I would spend hours searching for a video that would stump Sean, and my search brought me to the dark web. I can't remember whether it was me or Sean that started sending gory videos, but pretty soon, that's all we were sending to each other. I would search for graphic videos of people dying that had been altered by a computer graphics program, or created entirely with computers. Of course, I would come across. I would come across, videos that looked super real and I realized that many of them actually were real, actual people getting killed in all kinds of nasty ways. And pretty soon, we weren't sharing videos to try and stump each other anymore.

We were just trying to gross each other out. Like I said, we share a dark sense of humor. Plus, there's something about seeing people die on video that makes you feel alive. Call it morbid curiosity if you like. I just call it human nature. Anyways, this went on for a few months before Sean sent me a link to this dark website, where you can pick what happens to a computer-generated character. Pick how they die.

The graphics are amazing on this site. They're so good, it's hard to tell they're even fake sometimes. But there are some signs that a keen eye can pick out. The first one I participated in was of a young woman on an overpass. It showed a shot of her standing on the sidewalk, on the bridge, while traffic rushed by a few feet away. Three options popped up on the screen for her death. The first was her to jump off the bridge and hit the highway below. The second was for her to just walk into traffic on the bridge.

The third was to have someone come up and mug her, killing her in the process. There were about 20 of us voting on the website. You had to spend a few dollars worth of Bitcoin to cast your vote, but that was fine. The website had to make money somehow. I voted for the mugging, but most people wanted to see her jump. So when the voting was through, she climbed up onto the railing and took a swan dive off, splattering as she landed on the pavement and then getting run over by a truck. It was pretty wild.

It looked very real. The physics of the simulation were great. It was almost as if I could see her skull cracking and bones breaking. Crazy stuff. After about a month of regular visits to that site, Sean sent me a link to a different site. Only this one was the real thing. My hand started shaking as I realized what the site was all about. Not only was it completely illegal, but it also felt wrong. And that was part of the appeal. According to the site, all the people on it were terminally ill and agreed to take part for the payday. To be sure, this site was much more expensive than the other one.

It was several hundred dollars to even watch, and more to vote. But apparently, 80% of the proceeds went to the person's family. Better than dying and leaving your family in debt, I thought. I couldn't pass it up, even though it was a little out of my budget. I said, screw it, and paid them what they wanted. The victim was an older man, maybe in his early 60s, who had a brain tune. They had him on camera in the corner of a small room, the walls and floor of which were coated in clear plastic. He was just sitting on a seat and jeans and a t-shirt.

The options were a little different for this one. The first was to have him beaten to death with chains. The second was to have him stabbed to death with kitchen knives. The third was death by machete. I voted for death by machete. Lucky for me, Machete won. I watched with a sick feeling in my stomach as two men in black masks came into the room carrying machetes. Apparently, they had several cameras set up because the angle changed just before the men started in on him, shifting to a closer look.

The old man lifted his hands up to ward off the incoming attacks. The first hack sliced into his forearm and snapped the bone. I stared in disbelief as the masked man sliced the old man of the first. part. I listened to his screams and my headphones. I watched the blood drain out of him as he struggled feebly on the floor. The feed ended shortly after one of the masked men chopped his head off. I sat back in my chair, my heart hammering in my chest, palms sweaty and eyes wide. I'd just watched a man brutally murdered in real time. I didn't get back on the dark web for a while after that. I couldn't stop thinking about it, replaying it in my head over and over again. I felt sick

about the whole thing. I couldn't believe that I'd actually paid to watch the man die, that I voted for him to die. I never thought of myself as a cruel person. But did watching a man die like that? A man who would have died a slow and even more painful death, make me a bad person? I struggled with this question for a while. I started seeing the world a little differently. I went and saw my parents for the first time in nearly a year. We live in the same city, but I just never made it over to their house during the pandemic. We've never been all that close, but I guess I had kind of used the pandemic as an excuse not to see them. So when I went over after watching the man die on that website, things were different. It was like I saw them in a new light.

I saw them as humans, whereas before, they had kind of been larger than life. Even if I'd known logically that they were just as mortal as anyone else, I still held on to the childish notion that nothing bad could ever happen to them. But I knew that wasn't the case any longer. Things had changed. I had changed. It wasn't long after visiting my parents that Sean messaged me again. Round two, this message said.

even better this time. I was intrigued. I followed the link he sent and was greeted with an offer to come to a party hosted by the website. It would be a watching party, the invite said. I thought it was a joke at first.

I messaged Sean and told him as much. But he insisted it was no joke. He said he was going to the party and that I should come. It was tempting. I'd never met Sean before, and I was curious about the people running the website. I wanted to know where they found these terminally ill people. A day later, I got a message from the website's founder, Felix Ferdinand. I've been talking to Sean, his message read.

He says you're reluctant to come to our little party. Ours is a small community and we need to stick together, so I'm willing to waive the fee in your case. However, if you don't feel comfortable coming, I completely understand, maybe next time. The party was still a week away. when Mr. Ferdinand messaged me, and I didn't answer right away, I had to think about it. It was definitely a step out of my comfort zone. I had grown so used to staying at home, keeping to myself working from my computer. But as the days went by, I slowly warmed to the idea. It would be good for me to get out of the house and interact with people for a change. Plus, I was curious about the watching party that the invitation promised.

Two days before the party, I messaged both Sean and Mr. Ferdinand to tell them I would be there. The night of the party, I took an Uber to the address they provided on my encrypted invitation. It was a large house on a part of the city I'd rarely been to. All the homes had gates and were set back from the main road. Some of them even had security officers sitting in small buildings. The house my Uber pulled up to was one of them. I gave my name to the gate guard, and he scanned the QR code on the invitation I had pulled up on my phone. The gate opened, and the Uber driver dropped me off in front of the large White House and drove off.

It was three stories tall and immaculate. The front yard was a work of art that included perfectly landscaped bushes and shrubs. I walked up the stone front steps and raised my hand to knock. When the door opened, a portly and acne-scarred, middle-aged man bumped into me as he rushed out, nearly knocking me down. His eyes were wide with fear, and his breath came in gasps. He paid me no mind, scrambling down the steps as fast as his short legs would carry him, mumbling under his breath in a high-pitched tone.

A tall man in a black and red suit stepped into the doorway and watched the portly man make his way down the steps. He had a faint smile in his face. You must be Samuel, the man said, turning toward me. I'm Felix Ferdinand, your host for the evening. I nodded an acknowledgement. Sam is fine, I said. What was all that about?

Oh, there's one every year, Mr. Ferdinand said. Don't you worry about him. He extended a long arm around my shoulders and ushered me inside. As he closed the door behind us, I heard some kind of commotion out on the front lawn. It sounded like a muffled scream followed by a rustling sound, but the door was closed by the time I turned back to look. Mr. Ferdinand pulled me along with him into the house. Is Sean here yet? I asked. Yes and no. Mr. Ferdinand said as we walked deeper into the house.

The place was decorated in red and black velvets with expensive furniture and paintings placed strategically throughout. What does that mean? I asked. Let me ask you a few questions first, Sam, Mr. Ferdinand said. Then all will become clear about Sean. I nodded, but I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. When you were young, did you get in trouble much? Mr. Ferdinand asked. Well, I guess.

But I don't think it was any more than other kids. You got into fights with other kids, and you were accused of being involved in the disappearance of a cat. Is that right? Yeah. But the cat thing, I never... And you believe others are unworthy of your presence? What? I said.

Shocked at how much the stranger knew about me. No, I don't believe that. What is this anyway? Mr. Ferdinand sighed and looked at me with half-litted eyes. Sam, I'm not here to judge you. I know you. You and I, we're the same. It's okay for you to admit these things, because I already know.

For instance, I have several conversations you had to... in forums, where you said that most other people weren't good enough for you or something similar. You have these conversations? I asked. What does that mean? Listen, Sam. The person you know is Sean is not a person at all. He's an AI program that I spent many years writing and perfecting. And do you know what his job is? My mouth was suddenly dry. My tongue seeming to swell. No, I managed. What is it? To find people like us, of course, to match up certain attributes, to uncover those people that are a little different from the general population, like a pig sniffing for truffles in a French forest.

Mr. Ferdinand put his arm around me again and led me deeper into the house. I started to object, but it was a weak objection, and he knew it as well as I did. He was hitting a nerve with me, and, despite the voice in my head warning me to get out, I wanted to. to see where it was leading. Don't be scared, Sam. Mr. Ferdinand said, as we stepped into a room coated with plastic sheeting, two men in black clothes and masks

had a hold of the portly man that had nearly knocked me down. There was an exterior door on the opposite side of the room. The masked men must have caught the portly man and dragged him around the back of the house and into this room. This is Marcus, Felix Ferdinand continued. I'm afraid he's an example of the limitations

of my AI brother. I can't get them all right, it seems. Some people show all the signs, but they just can't accept their true nature. But that's not you, is it, Sam? I looked at Marcus, held on his knees by the two masked men. He had tape over his mouth, but he was still making small animal sounds. He was crying. A wave of revulsion swept through me as I looked at the man.

How could he be like me? I thought. were nothing alike, nothing. Mr. Ferdinand left my side for a moment and came back with a crowbar, which he placed in my hand. I looked down at the tool and then back up at him. He gestured toward Marcus. I looked around and noticed for the first time

the cameras positioned around the room, pointed at Marcus and the two masked men. Mr. Ferdinand smiled. He pulled a black mask out of his back pocket and handed it to me. Now here I am. You're all caught up. I've got a decision to make. Do I put the mask on, and in so doing, essentially take off the mask I've been wearing for years without even realizing it? Is this who I am? Who I want to be? Is it even a choice? I think of how I felt when watching the man being sliced apart by the masked men with machetes. Probably the same men holding Marcus down now. I remember how I felt. the nervous excitement in my stomach. Were the emotions I felt true disgust and shame? Or were they just byproducts of the uncomfortable realization that I'm a killer?

I look deep inside myself for an answer. Who is the true me? I pull the mask on and take a step toward Marcus, the crowbar heavy in my hand. I feel a sense of lightness like nothing I've ever experienced before. All the natural instincts I've been trying to suppress my whole life seem to flood through me, and I want nothing more than to feel this little fat man's skull crack beneath my blows. You don't have to be scared, Mr. Ferdinand says from behind me. You can be yourself here. I continue on, stepping up to within striking distance of Marcus's head.

I bring the crowbar up, but before I swing it down to fracture the man's skull, I turn back to Mr. Ferdinand. I'd like to bring my parents here. I say in a voice that's both my own and brand new. I feel like I've been born again to the life I'm supposed to live. I would like that very much. Mr. Ferdinand laughs. You're going to fit in just fine here, Sam.

Just fine.