I draw porn for folks who pay me money. Honestly, it’s not the worst way to make a few bucks. People are gonna be horny, and if you have the stomach they’ll pay you to indulge their weird kinks. If you’re lucky, you can get commissioned by a suspiciously wealthy furry and have your rent paid for a few months. Sure, you’ve got to draw their seven foot wolf OC farting on Pikachu, but hey, money’s money.
I’ve dealt with all kinds of weird fetishes and kinks as a part of my career. Farting, pissing, scat, burping, egg laying, hypermuscle, inflation, guro, sounding, vore, diapers, and feet, just to name a few. At this point, I know the designs and anatomy of the Overwatch gals and Rouge the Bat like the back of my hand.
I have limits, though. No kids and political figures. Loli grosses me out, and the thought of drawing a naked Donald Trump makes me want to puke. Other than that, I’m pretty amenable to most things.
I’m bringing all of this up to make it very clear that I’ve got a strong stomach for folks’ kinks. I’m not someone who looks at Deviantart groups like “HypnosisFeet” and thinks, “Truly, these people are disgusting degenerates and their kink is a sin.” (Though, to be fair, the foot fetishists are degenerates, but mainly because they’re super annoying.)
So, with that all established, let me tell you about the guy whose commission scared the shit out of me.
It started a few weeks back. I was scrolling through Twitter when I get a message from someone going by WoodyChuck.
“Hello, I would like a commission,” they said. I gave them my prices. WoodyChuck was willing to pay, and told me their commission idea.
“I want a pic of a naked woman in a woodchipper. She needs to be inserted feet first. She’s in up to her hips, so only her torso upwards is visible. She needs to look like she’s in pain. Like, a lot of pain.”
Ok, that’s a new one, I’ll admit. I’ve done gore stuff, but the woodchipper thing isn’t something I’ve been asked to do before. Hell, I don’t think I’ve even seen anything like that before. I decided not to let it bother me though. I’ve been asked to do erotic Saki Sanobashi fan art before. A woodchipper isn’t too over the line.
I asked WoodyChuck for more details. How should the woman look, what background did they want, that sort of thing. WoodyChuck replied that the woman should be slightly chubby, have dark skin, black hair, green eyes, and a scar on her left cheek. The background should be an abandoned cabin.
I said ok, and asked for payment. I like to get payment first, as I’d rather not spend hours doing a Sonic the Hedgehog inflation pic only for some schmuck to just ghost me (which has happened before). WoodyChuck did pay though. I got some money from a Paypal account with the email chippr@yahoo.com, and then got to work.
Over the course of a week, I sent WoodyChuck various sketches and images of my progress as the commission progressed. Honestly, WoodyChuck was a bit of an annoying client. They kept asking for very minute changes, and would sometimes want me to redo an aspect of the image they already approved. Sure, they weren’t the worst client I’ve ever dealt with (that would be a guy who asked me to do a pic of some character buying Wonderbread, of all things), but they weren’t my favorite kind of client.
Eventually, though, the pic was done, and they were happy with it. I was happy with my money, and went about my day while WoodyChuck probably jerked off to the woodchipper pic.
Hey, no judgement.
The next day, I get a message from WoodyChuck asking for another commission. Another woodchipper picture, but this time with a different woman. Also, this woman was to be “bleeding, half-alive, and missing all her fingernails and teeth. The word ‘snitch’ should be written in blood on her chest.”
I agreed to do it, and after getting payment, I worked on the commission.
WoodyChuck was a bit more annoying this time around, demanding constant changes. They kept saying, “No, that’s not how missing fingernails look,” or “You’re doing it wrong!” Finally after a week of this back and forth, they said, “I’ll just send you a reference pic.”
I was sent a low-res picture of a woman tied to a chair. Her mouth hung open, revealing that she was missing her teeth. Blood was caked around her mouth and ran down her face. Her brown eyes were bloodshot and her makeup was running. Her fingernails had been removed, with her fingers still bleeding. The blood stained the chair’s wooden armrests and the ropes tying her arms to the chair. She was topless, with the word “snitch” written in blood, most likely her own.
What the fuck? I thought. A part of me hoped it was a frame from a movie or some obscure porn or something. Sure, the camera quality was bad, but maybe that was a stylistic thing from whatever this was from, right? I did a reverse image search on it. Nothing showed up.
Maybe it was AI? Usually I hated AI “art” and would always be disappointed to see that sort of thing, but in this case I’d be happy to find out some goober used Midjourney to make a gore pic instead of…well, I didn’t want to think about the alternative.
I took another look at the picture. Holding back my disgust, I focused on the fingers. Five on each hand, all in the right place. The style wasn’t the over done, uncanny almost realistic look that a lot of AI images had. Nothing about the face seemed off in an uncanny sort of way. And the eyes…I don’t think AI could replicate the look in those brown eyes. There was genuine fear there.
There was no way this was AI.
Fuck.
Ok, I told myself. Calm down. Just ask WoodyChuck what this is. Maybe it’s an art project or a frame from a movie they made. Just write back a calm, logical message, and get to the bottom of whatever this is.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” I wrote back.
“Reference.”
“What’s this from?”
“Me.”
This guy’s got to be messing with me, right? I mean, sure, the pic looked realistic, and sure, I couldn’t find anything like this anywhere else, and yeah, it wasn’t AI generated, but it’s not like this guy actually tortured a person and then sent proof of it to some porn artist for a commission. I bet it’s just some in-joke I don’t get because I’m not part of the woodchipper guro community. Maybe if I was more plugged in I’d get it.
I did a quick search for “woman in woodchipper,” which led me to an image of a murder victim named Marilyn Branson. A woman who looked a lot like the woman I drew in WoodyChuck’s first commission. A woman who died in a similar way to what I drew.
I don’t scare easily. Slender Man and Michael Myers and Jeffrey Dahmer aren’t as scary when you draw them in a threeway. This, though, this was scaring the shit out of me.
I looked more into the Marilyn Branson stuff, eventually coming upon a lost media hunt for some old creepypasta. I found a post where someone found the creepypasta after getting it from a person called “chippr.”
I thought of WoodyChuck’s Paypal email, and the pieces began falling into place.
The OP of the post mentioned getting an email with the subject line “snitch” that ended with the phrase “See you soon.”
The picture WoodyChuck sent showed a woman with “snitch” written on her chest.
The OP mentioned they had brown eyes.
I remembered the horrified, bloodshot brown eyes of the woman in the picture.
I sat back, stunned. A part of me kept hoping it was an ARG or that there was some logical, reasonable explanation. But, I knew the truth. This was real.
I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to send this info to the cops or FBI or whoever, but OP did that and look where she ended up. I wanted to keep quiet, pretend this was fake, and just finish the commission and never think about this again. I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t let a sick fuck like this keep killing people. However, I didn’t particularly want to die either.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to think about this. I couldn’t deal with this. So, I did the only logical thing: I went to a bar and got blackout drunk.
This all happened yesterday. I don’t remember what happened last night. All I know is that I woke up back at home with one hell of a hangover. I went to the bathroom and threw up, then collapsed on the cold tile floor. My phone buzzed. While I was rifling through my pocket to get it, I felt a random piece of paper and some sharp things. Weird. I don’t remember those being in my pocket when I left. I grabbed one of those sharp things. It was oblong and the bottom was caked in what looked like blood. It kind of reminded me of a fingernail. Confused and worried, I took them all out. There were ten in total, and all of them were caked in blood.
Oh no.
With a growing sense of dread, I took out that piece of paper, and read it.
“Good to see you in person. Really loving your art. Hope that Uber I paid for got you home safe. Finish the commission or I’ll be seeing you again soon.”