Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Some people just need to die

Episode Date: May 18, 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] Author: Matt Doggett Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/MatthewDoggettAuthor/ Website/Newsletter sign up: matthewdoggettauthor.com 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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$1% $0% of a conditions apply. Some people just need to die. The words echo through my head as I drive, heading to meet the man I contracted through the dark web. Not much longer now. I'll get there soon enough and deal with whatever is waiting for me there. Some people just need to die. Six simple words, but they've turned my world upside down. I never thought of myself as a cruel person. I still don't. But there are some things you just don't do. Some people you just don't mess with. Still, where's the line to cross? How do you know it has

been crossed? Who gets to make that decision? These questions plague me as I head toward the meeting place. It all started a little over a week ago when I got a call for my grandmother. She was crying on the phone, talking about how someone stole all her money. Wait, just slow down, Grandma, I said. Tell me what happened. Slowly. I work for home so when she called I got up from my desk so I could put my full attention on her phone call she's 81 years old and she still lives with my grandfather but like most other people who are up there in age they have a hard time keeping up with the times I tried to tell them how to avoid scams on the internet but it's hard even for me to keep up with all the new ways scammers

are stealing money from people so when she said someone stole all their money I immediately grew concerned my grandma said inside telling me to download the new banking app on my phone i thought christ you downloaded it i asked i thought it was really from my bank she said sobbing so i downloaded it was not until today that i needed to check the app the app i downloaded and they stole your information i said a sinking feeling growing in my stomach my mind started reeling could my wife and I afford to support them? How much did they get from Social Security? How much were their expenses?

Numbers started running through my head, and I knew that things were tight. Between our two kids and our mortgage, I don't think it would be possible to support them. Not in any meaningful way, my grandma was saying, over and over again. How much did they take? I asked. But grandma was inconsolable. I heard my grandpa's gruff voice over the line, growling at her to give him the phone. Chase? My grandpa said.

Yeah, grandpa, it's me. Listen. He said. I know, grandpa. She told me. Please, just tell me how much they took. My grandpa went silent for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and said,

$350,000. I wanted to say something. But that number just hung in my head. It was more than my house cost. It was probably supposed to last them the rest of their lives, including unexpected medical expenses, of which there would be some. Both of them were pretty active and fairly healthy for their age, but it wouldn't last. That's just growing old.

There's no avoiding it. Have you contacted the authorities? I asked. How about your bank? No, there's nothing they can do, Grandpa said. What? I said. How?

You can't just access. incidentally get on the dark web. That's not how it works. You know what? I'm coming over to take a look at this. I'll be right there. I hung up the phone and got ready to head across town to their house, wondering how the hell my grandparents even knew about the dark web. By the time I got there, I had convinced myself it was some kind of mistake. They'd transferred the money to another account or something. We'd get it back. Before I could knock, my grandmother opened the front door of their nice little house and a small, retired, community. She was still crying. I'm sorry, she said. You don't have to apologize to me, Grandma, I said, giving her a hug. Now let's figure out what happened to your money. Grandma, a stooped woman with gray hair, who still dressed up every day, even though she sat at home most of the time, led me into the house. Grandpa, a tall and thin man with a shock of white hair, sat in his recliner watching old Mash reruns. He looked up as I walked in, his eyes clear and bright behind his old-fashioned glasses.

Good of you to come, Chase, he said. But I'm afraid there's not much you'll be able to do. Well, it's worth a try, I said, trying to stay positive. Grandma, where's your phone? Passing a tissue to her nose and sniffling, Grandma brought me her phone, open to the email she'd gotten. It did look like a legitimate email. Everything was spelled right.

The logo looked correct. and the message was professional. There was a button at the bottom of the email that said, download the new app. I held my thumb on it until a box showing the link came up. It looks like this thing had you download a tour browser from some third-party site, I said. I closed the email app

and told her to show me the icon on her phone she had used. It looked like a legitimate bank icon sitting on her home screen ready for use. It was pretty sophisticated. I might have even fallen for it. Her bank must have been hacked recently, I thought, allowing these scammers to get the email addresses of the bank's customers. For such an operation, I was skeptical that the source of the email would lead to anything.

It had probably been bounced around the world before landing in Grandma's inbox. I gave her the phone back and sighed. So how long until this really starts affecting you? How much are your monthly expenses? Grandpa shook his head. still watching Alan Alda as Hawkeye cracking jokes on the television. This is going to ruin us. We were living off that money.

What about Social Security? I asked. It's about enough for food, but it won't pay the mortgage. We'll have to sell the house, he said. Grandma started bawling again. Maybe I can help, I said, along with Mom and Dad. Grandpa laughed at that, and I knew he was right. My mother and father were probably worse off than they were now. They'd never been what you'd call financially literate.

Well, I better call the police. Then you should call your bank, I said. Suddenly, Grandpa stood up from his chair, walking toward me with a conspiratorial look in his eyes. He placed an arm around my shoulders and said, Come with me, Chase. Don't you put any ideas into his head, James? Grandma said, from where she sat on the edge of her recliner.

Grandpa ignored her, leading me into his little office. I've got another idea. He said to me when we were inside the room with the door closed. For what? I said, for getting our money back. I looked hard at Grandpa and determined that he was of clear mind. He was as sharp as ever, minus forgetting a few minor things here and there. I decided to hear him out. Okay, I said.

What's your idea? He smiled at me and ran a hand through his shock of hair as he sat down at his computer. He held a passing resemblance to a much older Doc Brown from the back to the future movies. I was surprised to see him open up a tour browser on his laptop. He navigated quickly to a site on the dark web called White Hats for Hire. Look at this, he said, clicking on one of the listings. It was a brief page claiming that one of their white hats would recover stolen funds for a 20% cut, but only if the stolen funds totaled over $100,000.

There was no upfront charge, and if they couldn't recover the funds, you didn't pay. The bottom of the listing and small print said something about delivering the guilty parties to you for an extra 10%. You're kidding, right? I said. Have you ever known me to kid about money, Chase? Grandpa said, his voice a stern growl. Well, no, but this is crazy. This could be a honeypot.

an FBI trap, or it could be something else. I'm sure they'll ask you for your bank information to find the money or some nonsense like that. So, all the money's gone. What are they going to do with an empty bank account? Besides, there's nothing illegal about asking someone to find stolen money for you. It's like hiring a private detective. I wasn't so sure about that one, but I couldn't think of any way to refute it. So I just stood next to him and read the listing again.

It really was tempting. No upfront costs. It wasn't an obvious rip-off. Not that I could tell. Well, I don't know, I said. I mean, it's your money. You're welcome to try it, I guess. I want to try it, he said.

But I'd like you to handle the communication for me. You're a young man with a finger to the pulse. You'll be able to tell better than me if something seems off. I sighed. If you really want me to try this, I will. But I get ultimate veto power. If it doesn't seem right, then I'll shut it all down, okay? Fine, he said, reaching out for a handshake.

Okay, give me a day to get some things in order, and then I'll get this thing rolling. And chase, Grandpa said, I want whoever did this deliver to me. I'll pay the extra 10%. I was silent for a long moment, unsure whether or not. I heard him right. Are you sure? That's going to be like $35,000. I've done the math, Grandpa said. I know what it will cost. Please, just do it. Uh, okay. I left their house that day, both surprised at my grandpa and wondering what kind of world I'd just stumbled into. I'd never done anything serious on the dark web. In fact, it had been several years since I'd messed around on it at

And back then, it was mostly out of curiosity. Now, I was going to hire someone to track down a good chunk of money stolen from my dear grandparents. I stopped and bought a burner phone on the way home, setting up a new anonymous email account for communications with the white hat who I'd hire. The next day, I had Grandma forward me the email and her banking information, hoping that would be all they'd need to catch the people. Getting the job set up was pretty easy. After I gave them the details, plus my new burner phone number and email address, the person on the website said they'd be in touch soon. And that was it.

I told my grandpa I had set everything up and then got back into my normal routine. It was five days later that the burner phone chirped with a new message from a number I didn't recognize. I found your money, ready to transfer it back. you want the perpetrators delivered to you for an extra 10%. I stared at the message, reading it several times in a row. What was my grandfather going to do to the person? Why did he want them delivered?

I decided he was probably just angry when he told me he wanted them delivered the other day. So I called him to check. Good news, I said when I had him on the phone. I just got a message that they found your money. But you don't really want the guy delivered to you, right? Yes, Chase, I do. Yeah, I said. I know the place.

Tell him to deliver the... Grandpa, you told people about this? I asked, Grandpa said. Yes, okay, I said. After hanging up, I picked up the burner phone and texted back, saying that we would like the person responsible delivered. I looked up the address and texted it over. The response came a few minutes later.

Fine. It will take us two days to get there. They spent some of your money, so expect $232,545 in your account. That's with our 30% taken out. I recommend moving the money out of the compromised account immediately. I thought it would be easy to say that the thief spent a little over $10,000 and keep it for themselves. Of course, it would be easy just to keep it all for themselves. It was looking like this was a legitimate business and not some sort of a scam.

About five minutes later, my grandpa called and told me that $232,545 had just shown up in the account. He told me that he moved it to a different account at a different bank, and that my grandmother was overcome with joy. You made her here, Chase, he said. Then grandma grabbed the phone away from Grandpa and thanked me about a dozen times for helping them. Before I got off the phone, Grandpa got back on again and told me to call him when I got the word. that they were at the warehouse. I will, Grandpa, I told him. He said two days, so I'll call you then.

Good, he said. And chase. Yeah, Grandpa, I hung up. I took the phone down for my ear, staring at it, as if it could give me some insight into this person I thought I knew so well. Some people just need to die? I whispered to myself. Now as I drive to the warehouse,

the words are still rattling around in my head. My grandpa is on his way to meet me there, but as I draw closer, I can't help but think that I'm on my way to witness a murder. I'll admit that I was filled with anger when I first learned that someone had stolen my grandparents' life savings. But does that deserve a death sentence? I pull up outside the warehouse, and my grandpa pulls up next to me. I get out of my car, noticing the windowless van parked nearby.

A man in a white mask gets out of the driver's side. Another one gets out of the passenger's side. They both head around to the back of the van and open it. The back doors are facing the warehouse, by design, I'm sure. By now my grandpa has parked and gotten out of his car. He walks up to the door, unlocking it with the key his friend gave him. We're in a tucked away area, which is probably one reason why the warehouse is vacant. A couple of cars drive by on the street, but they're far enough away

that they probably can't see much of what's going on. The two guys and the white masks pull two people with black hoods over their heads out of the van. Although I can't see their faces, I can tell by their clothes that it's a man and a woman. Grandpa holds the door open, while the two masked men shove the two people into the warehouse. Pretty soon, I find that I'm standing alone in the parking lot.

I have to force myself to go inside, locking the door behind me. There are two metal chairs set up in the middle of the warehouse, near a table with some tools on it. The men and white masks are using ropes to tie the man and woman to the chairs. When they're done, they stand up and look at my grandpa. These two run a hacker house in Russia, one of the masked men says in an English accent. They're not the ones who actually sent the email, but it's their operation. Who was it that actually sent the email?

Grandpa says. Let's just say that getting these two was a messy operation. The entire hacker house is gone, along with most of the hackers. Those that are still around won't be in any shape to steal from anyone. My grandpa nods. I appreciate your service, gentlemen. He says, you can go now. Tell your friends about us, the man says.

I will, Grandpa says. I will. The two masked men leave. leave and make sure to lock the door behind them. I watch as they pull out at the parking lot and fade off into the distance. Turning back around, I see that my grandpa has removed the black hoods from the two hackers. There are a couple of middle-aged Russians, both of them sobbing and pleading in broken English. Please, sir, we have family, we support family.

We are sorry for your money, please. My grandpa picks up a ball peen hammer from the table, hefting it in his hand. He suddenly swings it down, smashing it into the man's left kneecap. The sound of bone-breaking echoes around the warehouse, followed closely by the man screaming. Oh my God, I whisper. My grandpa turns and looks over his shoulder at me. Chase, he says, as if he forgot I was here. I'm sorry.

You can go now, too. You don't need to see this. I just wanted you here in case those men tried anything funny. As he's speaking to me, the Russian man is still screaming, making my grandfather's words hard to decipher. Shut up! Grandpa yells, smacking the man in the jaw with a hammer. The Russian spits up blood in several teeth, but he's no longer wailing. You don't need to see this, Grandpa says to me. Just remember what I told you.

I nod numbly. Some people just need to die, I say. That's right. Who knows how many lives? these people have ruined. We're doing a good thing here. Okay, I say, turning toward the door. Oh, and Chase? Yeah. Not a word to your grandmother about this, he says, winking. I nod again and unlock the door stepping outside. As the door swings shut behind me, the screaming starts up again.