Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Dark Web Horror Story | Crowdfunding

Episode Date: January 15, 2021

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Talk to nicely. Brian Wilkins needs a new heart. Six words that changed my life. This is my story. A few years ago, my mom had a car accident. She was fine, but her car was totaled. We weren't well off, so I knew this was going to hurt us financially. A friend of mine told me about GoFund me.

He said all I would need to do was provide some photos and a sad story about my mom's current predicament, and people would donate. A week later, we managed to get about $2,000 from Facebook friends and strangers. With that money, we were able to fix her Honda and have money left over. It was truly a miracle. This is the type of stuff I feel that technology was truly met for. I started giving back to the online community myself, helping people in need, and sending a few dollars here and there for good causes felt great. Then, on August 17th, I received an anonymous email

with a subject line that was the first sentence of this post. Brian Wilkins needs a new heart, It read. The only problem is that Brian Wilkins is me. That is my name. It seemed like a prank, so I went ahead and opened the attachment. It came from a website called crowdfund. Dot Onion. I was aware that websites with the ending of Dot Onion were associated with the dark web. This sparked my curiosity as I had dabbled with the dark web back in college. I still had the door browser on my computer. I copied and pasted the link. The site looked exactly like the GoFundMe The only difference was that the website was titled Crowdfund. My crowdfund profile read as follows.

August 19th changed Brian's life forever when he was tragically stabbed outside of his apartment by a masked assailant and left for dead. Local neighbors heard him struggling for aid, choking on his own blood, and called 911. Currently, Brian's receiving care at... I didn't even bother to finish reading the morbid article. How could anyone write anything so perverse?

The goal was set for $3,000. and the bottom box explained how the funding worked. Finally, things started to make sense to me in the most dark and twisted way. Crowdfund is a way to help the community give back to themselves by preventing bad things from happening through support and commitment. Your donation toward our fundraiser will prevent such a violent crime from happening. The wording was very specific, but I knew what the implication was. If I didn't pay this money, in two days someone would come to kill me.

I sat there for a long time and looked around the area nervously. Who had sent this to me? Should I go to the police? It seemed absurd to consider they would be able to plan out such an attack against me and also inform me of how it would all go down. No sort of computer algorithm could be that accurate. I decided to choose an alternate path and closed down my computer before calling my friend Tom

to see if I could come to his house for the next few days. I figured that if I was nowhere near where the crime would be meant to take place, then I would be safe. A few hours later, I was in a cab, minding my own business. I decided to download the Tor browser on my phone and go back to the crowd fun site to see if there were any changes. To my horror, the fundraiser had changed. I tried not to freak out as I read the new information.

Brian Wilkins was on his way to a friend's house for the weekend when tragedy struck and a diesel driver fell asleep at the wheel. This caused Brian's driver to veer off the road and ultimately cut Brian's young life short. I asked the driver to pull over at the next stop in a panic. I got out and paced the gas station, trying to figure out what was happening. I was young and naive. I called my father, convinced that seemed like the best idea.

He picked up the phone, and I explained the whole situation to him. He responded, These people are bottom feeders. They take advantage of things like getting a free meal. But in this case, they've raised the stakes to threaten you. Give them some cash, and they should go away. Of course, that was easier said than none. I was broke.

Dad, can you help me? I asked. I was desperate, but he wasn't taking it as seriously as me. Brian, these people aren't going to do anything to you. I've seen a hundred different people get scammed on the dark web by stuff simpler than this. You just need to calm down, turn around and go home. It will be fine. I calmed down a little and look toward the horizon. Maybe he was right. This was getting out of control. I used my phone to order another Uber and try to ignore the notifications I was getting from the crowd fund website. Every few miles, another buzz in my pocket was forcing me to look down. I wanted to ignore it, but what if Dad was wrong?

What if these people really were going to do me harm? I finally gave in and felt my heart drop as I read through the messages. It got worse and worse the further I read. Then all of a sudden, I saw a message that changed the dark tone of these threats. Brian Wilkins has made it safely at home. The funding has ended. simply said. Then I noticed a link to a new fundraiser. It was for my father, an assassination attempt. It read, Dennis Wilkins was driving to visit his son, Brian, when he experienced a terrible

fender bender, which wound up flipping his car. The paramedics have taken him to a miracle clinic where he is currently on life support. I panicked and called dad immediately, and it went to voicemail. Pull over now, I demanded the driver. I couldn't help but to wonder if any of this was possible. Why was he coming to see me? Was I really in danger? I tried to call again. Brian, why are you calling me? I'm driving right. Dad, whatever you were doing you need to stop. Someone is following you, I told him frantically. Brian, what are you talking about? Is this about that dark web business? I told you not to worry about. Then I heard the sickening sound of screeching tires. I clutched the phone harder and listened as my dad screamed louder than I ever heard him do before.

The crunching of metal, the sound of fire. I could see it. All happening as I listened, and then the crashing of glass, the explosion of a ball of flames, his head slamming onto the windshield, and then only silence. And my phone buzzed again with a new notification. We tried to warn you. Lazzang sur-gillet, puissance-molyne, for 15 minutes. We'd say that's their dojo. Pre-a-to-joo?

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