Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - I'm trapped on the Dark Web... Please save me!

Episode Date: April 28, 2021

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Veil to pay to fashion responsible. The conditions It's applicable. horror stories for future Dr. No Sleep episodes. Your support would mean so much to me since I am a small podcast with very minimal outside funding. Thank you so much for your consideration. And now back to the story. I've been awake for the past 48 hours trying to get out of this predicament. How I ended up in a situation where death might be the only feasible option, I still don't fully understand.

All I know is that it started with the message I received while browsing the deep web. Please, please God, help me. The message is. read. My first instinct was to ignore the message, thinking it was the beginning of some kind of cheap scam. But then the second message came through, look, I know you're reading this. I'm not trying to trick you into giving me anything, but I'm begging you. Please just give me a minute and listen to what I have to say. You would literally be saving my life. I'd never fallen for a scam before, but I had to admit, the stranger had me curious. And just giving them a moment of my time would probably be more interesting than the aimless browsing I had planned. All right, what's up?

Thank you that you responded, the stranger said. Well, I have some time. How am I supposed to help you, though? I asked, rather sarcastically. My name is Benjamin Nelson, and this is probably the last night of my life. I just need to tell you my story. I need someone to know what happened to me. I still didn't buy his story, but I had to admit it intrigued me. I'll listen. Just tell me whatever you need to say. Is there anyone I should send it to later or what? I asked. No, I just need someone to know, he said. All right, let's hear it. I cracked open another beer and leaned back in my chair as I awaited the next message.

Do you remember those old warnings in the YouTube comments? Back in 2008 or so? He asked. You mean those? Repost this comment to seven other videos or you'll die kind of deals? I asked back. Exactly. I always used to ignore them.

I was just a kid back then. But even I was clever enough to see past their ruse. I don't even remember what they were trying to achieve. Maybe they were just trolls, or maybe they wanted to make something go viral. Whatever their deal, I didn't once repost a comment, Benjamin said. I wasn't entirely sure where he was going with the story, but it did awake a bizarre sense of nostalgia, seeing kids freak out and cry as they debated whether or not the threats were real.

These were just simpler times, where YouTube was full of funny videos without ads, and without channels sponsored by literally entire countries. It was harmless fun, but I'd honestly forgotten the existence of these kinds of things. But two days ago, I saw another. That time, however, it was on a forum on the dark web. I can't even remember the name of the site. It was some generic conspiracy page, but the message brought back some funny memories.

At that point, I was absolutely certain that he was pulling a prank on me. But I was enjoying the story nonetheless. What did the message say? I asked. There comes a time in every person's life where a choice between self and stranger must be made. I am weak, but you might be strong. Do not look behind you. I beg you, because he is already there and getting closer. Don't look behind you.

Despite the poem, not being particularly scary, an eerie sense of dread had started to build up in my chest. One I couldn't just shake off. That's it? I asked. There was more, but I can't exactly remember how it ended. I'm sure you think I'm crazy, and honestly, I have no real proof that I'm about to die, but I've been awake for almost three days,

and I haven't once looked behind me. I know he's standing there, and if I turn to look at him, I'm going to die, he said. His story was starting to sound ridiculous. I wanted to laugh, but I still felt weirdly worried about my own safety. It was a feeling of impending doom that seemingly had no origin nor made any sense.

How do you know he's there, if you haven't turned around to look at him? It was the only thing I could think to ask. Does he make a noise or something? He paused for a moment, presumably contemplating how to keep the charade going. I just know. I can't explain it. But from the moment I read that message, something inside my room just changed.

I was never a superstitious kind of guy, but I know he's there. I can feel him standing behind me, he said. That honestly doesn't make your story any more believable, I typed in with trembling fingers. I held my hand up in front of myself. I was nervous. My entire body riddled with panic for reasons I couldn't understand. The safety of my room had somehow been breached, but I didn't know what had caused the sudden change in atmosphere.

I wanted to turn around to make sure nothing had gotten inside, but an unseen aura compelled me to keep my eyes fixed on the screen. My body was too afraid to follow logical instructions, rendering me trapped in my chair. If you haven't seen or heard it, you can't really know if it's real, I typed in with fading confidence. Well, let me ask you this. How do you know that you feel sad, afraid, or lonely? It's not necessarily something you can observe, but you know the feelings are true. The feeling can't be measured, yet you believe them, you experience them. I can feel his presence. Do you understand what I mean?

That feeling of being observed wasn't unknown to me, but I'd always written it off as paranoia. Baseless emotion, coming from scary movies or stories online, I was sitting uncomfortably in my chair, desperately wanting to end the conversation. So what do you want me to do? I asked. I can't help you from here. You already are helping me, he said. You've been listening to my story, which was my last wish. What now then? I asked.

Still not brave enough to just leave. What's your name? he asked. Why does that matter? I asked back. I'd like to know the name of my savior. That last sentence, though meant his praise, sounded all too malicious. I couldn't hear his voice, nor could I see the expression. on his face, yet I just knew something terrible was about to happen. I'm Daryl, I typed back.

Thank you, Daryl. For what? I asked back. For saving my life? But I didn't do anything. My room was starting to feel darker. The temperature had suddenly dropped drastically. I wanted to leave, but I was too afraid to just turn around and confirm that the room was in fact empty.

I felt watched, trapped. What had Benjamin done to me? I'm assuming you still haven't looked behind you, he asked. What have you done? I asked. I was entirely honest with you, Daryl. I do remember the last part of the poem. Care to hear it? He went on, ignoring my question. Benjamin, what did you do?

He started typing, not to answer the question, but to finish the poem he'd sent me earlier. Because that's all he needs. To be seen, to be feared, to destroy your soul. Your death shall come at his hand. But you still have hope. Just make him lose interest. Find him a new victim. Or be selfless and die.

Though my logical brain didn't believe it, my entire body had gone into panic. My flight or fight mode was going into overdrive, and no matter how much I tried to deny it, I knew I was no longer alone in my room. I'm sorry, Daryl, I really am. I didn't want to hurt anyone, but I don't want to die. But you still have a chance. Just find the monster or another victim. Tell the story.

Pass it on to someone else. If we just keep passing it on, no one has to die. Then I'll pass it back on to you, I said, a hint of anger penetrating through the fear. It doesn't work like that. How do you know? I asked, knowing he couldn't possibly have tracked down the poster of the original comment. Because it's not here anymore. Even if I wanted to take it back, it's not going to come. Pass it on, Daryl. Don't die out of stubbornness. That was the last message I got from Benjamin before he signed out. I tried to reestablish contact with him, but it was a futile task. I was trapped in my chair, not allowed to look behind

me, but I knew the creature was still standing there. I could just about make out its outline in the reflection of my dimmed computer screen. It showed a lanky but massive creature in the corner of the room, though I couldn't make out any proper details. I knew then, without a shadow of a doubt, that it was all real. I started reposting the poem all around the dark web, praying for someone to read it, and joined my chat. I sent out hundreds of messages begging for help, but no one was stupid enough to fall for it. No one except for myself. So here I am, two days after I first spoke to Benjamin. I don't have any friends or family in the vicinity to come to my rescue. Maybe that's why I was the perfect victim. I don't know. You guys are my last hope. You've already heard the

message, and now you know my story. I'm sorry that it had to be one of you, but I'm not ready to die yet. Don't worry, though. I'm guessing about 50,000 people will see this within the first day, and only one of you will be chosen. I'll leave you with this. If you're such a Suddenly feeling watched, if the hairs on your arms are standing up and you don't know why, just don't look behind you. Thanks for listening. If you're tuning in on Apple Podcast, 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.