I like to go on gore sites. I am aware how unsettling most people find it, and I am right there with them. But just like eating chips once you start its hard to stop. But that is now likely to change. Last night I was browsing my usual haunts; Reddit war footage threads, dedicated Twitters, and just plain old websites. But it was not doing it for me. I guess all the blood and guts eventually blends together, and I can no longer satisfy my morbid curiosity and depravity.
Eventually in on one website I was in a thread about this specific problem. I was like a junkie, each new fix needed to be stronger, a higher dose, until I eventually O’D. After singing my tale of woe to other posters doing the same, a new commenter popped in. Their username was just a random set of numbers and letters with no discernable pattern or meaning.
All they posted in the thread was;
Need new shit? Check this out
Followed by a link. Now, you’d think I would have the common sense to not follow the very sketchy link in a thread on a website that had a dedicated section about how a certain real world event in the last hundred years was actually a hoax. But like I said before, I was jonesing for a hit of some new, and depraved, gore material. I clicked it and it opened to a basic all black website with red text. I rolled my eyes, thinking that it was some edgy fourteen year old’s attempt at his own gore site. I decided to stay and see what was on it anyway, deciding that my anti virus and other software would probably suffice for whatever weak ass virus or trojan horse lurked in that early 2000’s style travesty of a website.
The name of said site was GreatestGore.You, which I just guessed to be some sort of free website maker or something, like Weebly. As I scrolled I saw the welcome message;
Welcome to Greatest Gore Dot You!!! I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself!!!
Kinda cringe, I thought, but explored the site further. I saw the hyperlink to the videos section. At last, it was time for some sweet human tragedy. The first video was titled, idiot gets hit by car. It was vertical smartphone footage of a younger man with his hood pulled up over his blond hair, meandering across a crosswalk. Only to be blindsided my a speeding car. His body pinwheeled through the air, his limbs sticking straight out only to collide with the ground, ragdolling across the concrete road. I smiled. This was good. And that was an idiot getting hit by a car. I exited out and clicked on the next. Post pitbull.
This was just an image. An arm torn apart from below to palm all the way up to the elbow. A gory mess where the almost translucent bone stood at a stark contrast to the bright red glistening muscle of the arm, tooth marks from the supposed pitbull creating deep lacerations in the pale skin. I frowned. This looked familiar somehow…
Have I seen this before? I thought. It wasn’t impossible for me to have seen an image before and forgot. I had seen lots before it. I shrugged and clicked to the next. Just a jaw.
It was true to its title. It was a post suicide victim slumped against a corner of a room. Everything about the jaw was gone, save for some shreds of flesh left after the shotgun went off. Yet again I felt the same feeling, not unlike deja vu. What about this feels familiar? It seemed to be some skinny white dude in an old hoodie and jeans, now blood covered and stained. I decided to go to the next video. cartel.
I was beginning to feel uneasy though. I felt like I was going to get in trouble. Like a kid on the playground who just broke a pretty big rule. I soldiered on though. cartel was a video and it started. In a forest setting with two people. One, a pudgy man in all black adorned with a black balaclava wielding a machete, and the second was a man on his knees in front of him, wearing a sack over his head with his hands behind his back. I skipped ahead as the man in the mask said some lines in Spanish I did not understand. Then pulled the other man’s chin up with one hand, before pulling the machete across hus exposed throat. As he did the man’s victim started to make choking sounds and cursed and pleaded.
“Fuck! Fuck! Stop! Stop! Please!” he practically spat out has blood spurted out over his chest and hoodie. I felt sick. Not at the video I have had seen worse. But the voice. Did I recognize it? I felt like someone poured ice water down the back of my shirt. I exited the video.
This was feeling wronger and wronger. Why did I keep watching? Despite my sickness I wanted to keep going. I have seen worse than all that, and I decided to keep going. Next up was collateral damage, a video. It was CCTV footage of a convenience store from above the register. A man with blonde hair is buying some snacks at the register, talking to the clerk in such an angle that his face is hidden to the camera. Two men then barge in with guns and masks on. One points his shotgun at the clerk, the other his handgun at the blonde haired man, who raises his hands. A few words are exchanged before the clerk suddenly pulls a gun and a short gunfight breaks out. The blonde customer is hit by both gunmen as they run out of the shop, not a single scratch on them. The man had been hit in the chest a few times, and is now collapsing onto the counter, a pool of blood rapidly spreading onto it. As the clerk starts dialing his phone, the man looks at the camera. Despite the mediocre quality of the footage. Despite the distance from him the camera is. As he slowly slides to the floor leaving a trail of crimson I could make out his face. My face.
This can’t be fucking real. I kept repeating to myself. It had to be a coincidence. Just some lookalike. I probably look like most white dude in their twenties. Blonde hair too. But something in me is not sure. I click on another, not bothering to read the title. Its a car accident with the camera panning to a person in the driver seat of a badly damaged car. Glass, metal, and plastic litter the street as a crowd gathers around the man halfway out through the windshield. A man covered in blood, arms twisted like broken tree branches hanging limply off his destroyed torso. But there was not enough blood to conceal his face.
Mine.
I was practically hyperventilating. This could not be real. Manically I clicked through a dozen more videos and images.
A stabbing victim with my face. Me after I had been pulled through industrial machinery. My black and bloated corpse wrapped in seaweed on a beach. File after file. Video after video. It was all me.
I took second to think and realized something. I quickly went back to the first images and videos. The man hit by the car was obviously me. The tattered arm was mine, I could now even see a scar from a childhood accident on an intact portion of my flesh. The clothes the headless corpse wore were even mine. Hell, I even realized that all the clothes the dead me’s wore were ones I owned.
And the voice of the man getting his throat slashed, mine. I had now idea what to do. My breaths were coming out ragged and I felt lightheaded. Before I could spiral more however, a new hyperlink popped up. It read;
Oops, you werent supposed to see that! >;3.
Like a zombie, or a person in a trance I numbly clicked it. I was a small collage of pictures. One showed a house. The next a window. Then the blonde haired man in front of a computer. Then a picture of right behind the man. And finally, the man crumpled over his keyboard, his back and scalp full of large gashed as a large pool of blood congealed over his electronics.
It was me right then. I closed and locked the doors and windows. I got out my baseball bat and even called the police. I have no fucking clue what to do now. Please help me. I think I heard the front door opening…