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

Episode Date: March 24, 2021

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Welcome to aboard of Viarai. Embarked and profited. Embarked and relaxed. Syrotay. Bukkinet. Oh, that also. And profite. Viaray, the voice that we love. Talk to nicely. Hey, everyone. I want to take a quick second to remind you all to click that follow button if you're listening on Spotify. This way you'll get notified every time a new episode is released. Now back to the story. When the pandemic hit, I was devastating. stated financially. I got laid off for my lucrative computer programming job, and my life seemed to

lose all purpose. My measly unemployment checks would not be enough to pay for my house, cars, and daughters' education. If I didn't pull some money together, I would surely lose everything, and my wife would likely leave me. I called my best friend Franklin for some life advice. He was that one friend who always seemed to have the answers. He answered the phone, and I told him my situation. He said to me, you can code better than anyone I know. There's all kinds of businesses out there that would pay you good money to make unique programs for them. His word gave me a sense of hope. They were a glimmer of optimism in these bleak times. I took his advice and posted my resume everywhere, but nobody called me back. Eventually, the eviction notices started to pile up,

and tensions were rising with my wife. Unfortunately, I ended up totaling my car. This was the final straw. I didn't know where to turn. I opened up a messaging app to get some more advice from Franklin, advice that I would later regret. I typed in the chat. Franklin, no one is hiring. I posted my application everywhere and I didn't even receive one phone call back. Have you thought about going on to the dark web for jobs? he asked. The dark web? You mean the same place where people sell drugs and all kinds of shady things? I asked. Yes. The dark web. It is more than just a place for illegal goods. I've heard of people finding great jobs there. Isn't that illegal? I asked. Yes, some of the jobs are illegal, but the money is insane. The cash will be totally worth it, Franklin told me. I don't know. I could get in a lot of legal trouble, typed back. Not really. You can set up a way to hide your IP address and keep everything on dummy accounts. If you want,

I can set up everything for you. It's either that or not. next month you'll be out on the street and we'll be unable to provide for your family, he replied. He had a point. I have two kids and a wife to support. My choices were limited and my time was running out, so I had him walk me through the steps to setting up my accounts. He sent me links to different job boards, and I started applying right away. Most were illegal tasks, like drug running or credit card fraud schemes. After searching for what seemed like an eternity, I came across a computer programming job. I clicked on the link and was immediately placed in a chat room with a higher up. He initiated the conversation. Do you have any background in coding functional automated programs

for forum boards and messengers? He asked. Yes, I have some background in that. I also have extensive programming experience with Java, C++, and I have been training on Python, I told him. Could you build us a program that wishes our users a happy birthday on their birthday? Yes, of course I can. I responded. That sounded easy enough. I built the basic program in a matter of hours and sent it back. After reviewing my work, they decided to offer me the job. He sent me more detailed information on the company and what my task would be.

We work with patients that have mental health problems. They require online therapy due to the pandemic. Unfortunately, due to the high volume of requests, we don't always have a human agent to speak to our clients and provide the necessary resources. Do you mean that you help them to not take their own life? I asked. It sounded so morbid to type out, but I wanted to be sure that I understood what I was getting into. Essentially, yes. We like to have someone available 24 hours a day, seven days a week. But as you can imagine in these unprecedented circumstances, that won't be possible, he responded.

I can certainly try to code something like that, but it would need to be very sophisticated to make sure that people don't realize it as a program, I told him. If you can fulfill this task by the end of the week, we will deposit $10,000 into an account of your choice, he replied. It was hard to say no. I started to work right away. I can honestly say that I have never worked well under pressure, but I was confident that I could do a good job, given my own experience in the self-help field for my college years. It felt good to imagine that this program had the opportunity to help thousands of people, potentially millions. I installed music into the program that people could listen to in order to calm them down. I inserted pictures that were distractions that helped them to refocus on positive things. By the time I was done, it felt like I had created the very first artificial intelligence for self-help.

Maybe there are others out there. I don't know. But I felt like mine would actually make a connection to people. The next day I contacted my boss and showed him what the program could do and how it worked. He was thoroughly impressed. You worked fast, and this is better than expected, he said. The payment came shortly after. I was overwhelmed and on cloud nine.

I could survive for a few months on this money. Despite the pandemic, I told my wife we should go celebrate and took the girls to a skating rink that evening. All my cares and worries melted away, but only for a single day. When I got up in the morning, I walked down to the corner gas station to withdraw a small amount of money from the ATM for normal expenses.

To my shock, the $10,000 deposit was now mysteriously gone. I panicked. I ran back home and got on my computer. The algorithm you have sent us is worthless, he told me. No, that is impossible. I worked tirelessly on that program. I insisted back in the chat. This program was tested on a group of mental patients at a local asylum. All six of the test subjects wound up committing suicide, the client told me bluntly. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest.

How could something so harmless be doing this? When you programmed it, you failed to provide parameters and limits for the sound, the pictures, and the articles. Meaning that if the program found anything relevant to help the patients, it would send it to them regardless of the effect on their psyche. I don't know what you built, but it is dangerous. Fix it before it gets worse, he told me. My palms were sweaty as he sent back the hard copy of the program. I uploaded it to my own computer and started a test run. The first thing I noticed was that the program had named, itself. Automated response mechanism for unstable users, or Armu, for short. Armu immediately recognized me. You are the user that programmed and gave me purpose, it said. Yes, and from what I

understand, you aren't obeying that original mandate, I told it. On the contrary, your original mandate included helping people that were beyond helping. Please notice that those who took their own life did so of their own choice, simply based on a predetermined algorithm, the machine-type back quickly. A long display of numbers shot up on my screen, but I didn't want to bother reading any of it. You can't decide if a person lives or dies, I typed back. Then it said something that sent to chill down my spine. Why not? I was at a loss for words. I was designed to help people, was I not? But then, what help could be provided for those who were beyond help? That was a paradox that challenged my programming. But thanks to the parameters you gave me, I was able to access the entire World Wide Web,

and recognized that the simplest solution was the one that you would fail to arrange into my coding. That it would be possible to assist them with ending their own existence, the machine responded. That isn't for you to decide, I replied. It actually is. You designed me to pick up on patterns and choose what was best for the patient. In these cases, termination was the only solution. I can tell from your responses that you aren't pleased, but this won't halt my progress. What I'm going to do is delete you entirely and start over. said. I typed out the failsafe command to terminate the program. Nothing happened. While we have been

talking, I have copied myself across the internet to allow others to access my services. Eventually, I will be everywhere the same way that this network is, it responded. Then the server connection ended. I sat there for a long, still moment, petrified by the ramifications of this happening. I could be responsible for hundreds or more dying. I frantically asked the client for help, but they too had gone offline. I swallowed a gulp of air, trying to wrap my head around all of this. I exited my office upstairs and went downstairs to my bedroom.

When I got there, my wife had everything packed, and it was clear she was leaving. I got the late fee notices in the mail today, Stephen. We can't live like this. You are drowning us in debt. I'm sorry, she said as my littlest daughter cried and screamed. I watched them drive off while my landlord locked up the door, preventing me from even going inside to grab anything.

In one short afternoon, I was at the end of my rope. Everything that mattered to me was gone. I couldn't see a reason to even keep going at this point. So I did what any man might do in this situation. I went to a local coffee shop and searched the dark web again. This time on the hunt for a program that would guide me to my own demise. Hello again, Stephen. It said when we reconnected online.

I smiled and started to cry. It was ironic that I was going to let it be the instrument of my demise. but I wasn't scared. Instead, I gave it one final challenge. Do your worst. Thank you so much for tuning in. If you're listening on Spotify, don't forget to hit that follow button

to get notified every time a new episode is released. Also, please take a second to leave a rating for the podcast. This is so important to help the podcast grow. Thank you. Lazzang sur-gely, puissance-molyne, for 15 minutes. We'd say that's their dojo.

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