I got a DM from a client the other day.
“$$2k. Urgent. Pls respond” - AlCrowlee88
I clicked on the profile. Just a username I didn’t recognize. No picture, no details. And I couldn’t remember if I interacted with them before.
I don’t usually respond to random DMs, and I was busy getting ready for a livestream, but that amount of money got my attention. Worse comes to worst it’s another troll telling me I’m a useless whore. Yawn.
“What’s the request? Custom vid?” - Addie
The reply came immediately. Guess it was urgent.
“I want u to draw me something”
I stared at the message for a second.
“??? Ur joking”
“No I’m srs. Draw me a picture. $2k no joke”
Fucking lol.
I’d been a sex worker for five years. Honestly, I’ve gotten a lot over that period, but this was maybe the weirdest request I’d ever gotten. You think you’ve heard it all.
I got a notification. My scheduled stream was about to start.
I glanced down at my outfit. I was doing a “pirate-themed” stream today (don’t ask, reward for a long-time subscriber), so I was dressed like Nami from One Piece. In a very, um, revealing blue bikini stop, short shorts, and a pirate hat (my own flourish). The subscriber didn’t specify the pirate, but I’m a redhead right now and I have pretty big tits, so… Go figure. I could kill two birds with one stone and get some anime fans to tip me and pay me to cosplay again. Believe it or not, I’ve been requested sexy Gaara from Naruto.
But… I’m not gonna lie, this guy intrigued me. If nothing else other than for my own entertainment.
“I don’t rlly draw. I’m not an artist” - Addie
“U don’t need to be. I just want u to draw it”
“Ok I’ll bite. What am I drawing?”
“This”
He sent an image attachment. Ooh yay. Another dick pic.
“not opening that”
As if on cue, a chime. $50 was deposited into my account. With another message: “pls open it”.
Fine. My dick ratings cost $20 so I was already ahead of the curve. And if it was something worse? Well, let’s just say I’ve been sent the darkest parts of the internet. So what the hell. I opened it. And what I saw was very strange. Stranger than I even expected.
It was a scan of an image. It looked like it was taken from a very old library book that got beat to hell or something. The page itself was yellow and cracked. And on it, a symbol drawn in splattered black paint on a wall. A row of interlocking circles with a crude sketch of an eye, six times, along its circumference, contained within triangles. And there were words circling around the edges of the image, but it was in a language I didn’t recognize. Like the letters were from some alphabet I hadn’t heard of.
I’d never seen anything like it.
“wut is this?” - Addie
No answer. I waited. Stared at the image. And then my eyes glanced up at the message chain. At the promised two thousand dollars. Probably eight streaming sessions worth of work. And if this is his kink, who am I to judge?
“You just want me to draw this? Like on MS paint or something?” - Addie
“No. On your floor. chalk works best”
“This is a joke”
“NO” - Al
Another $50 into my account. This guy was a fucking trip. But he clearly wasn’t kidding.
“I don’t have chalk lol. I can run to the store”
“NO. need it now”
It never fails. When the mood strikes, the mood strikes. They gotta get off right away.
I rummaged through the desk next to my cam set-up. Pushed aside random shit, make-up, papers, my toys. I found a pencil.
I looked at the hardwood floor in my apartment. No way that was gonna work.
Then I remembered - and found my old purse on the floor in my closet. And inside it, a thick, black sharpie. I tested it on the floor. Bingo. I messaged him back.
“Does a marker work 4 u?”
Again, the reply was immediate.
“YES. As long as I can SEE IT. Draw BIG”
Calm down, my guy. Horniness does strange things to a man. Well, fine. It wouldn’t take me more than a minute.
“Ok. drawing now”
I pulled up the pic he sent me on my phone, ignoring my other pending messages. And the chimes from my scheduled live stream and loyal users asking where I was. They could wait. They might even like waiting. Besides, I kind of wanted to see where this went.
So I kneeled down on the floor next to my bed. Pulled aside the carpet. Put sharpie to hardwood. And began to draw.
It actually showed up pretty well.
Listen, I’m no Picasso, but I was pretty good in high school. I even did an art show with one of the teachers. It was a portrait of my mom (I made sure to take it before her third glass of rosé). I think dad still has it somewhere, if he even opened anything he had after she died. Really, my point is, I’m not so bad.
I surveyed my handiwork. It was a little shaky - circles aren’t easy, you know - but it was pretty accurate. I might even call it damned good. I’d say he picked the right cam girl.
I turned down the lights and took a photo of it with a flash. Sent it back to Al.
“How’s this?”
No reply.
“???”
Still nothing.
Oh well. At least I made a hundo. And got a fun story out of it.
Then my phone buzzed:
Two. Thousand. Dollars.
“YESSSS YOU DID SO WELL I LVOE UOU ADDIE” - Al
Jesus fucking Christ.
I spent maybe two minutes drawing this ridiculous circle. And I made more money than I did in the last month of camming.
Also, as a side note, don’t judge me. I have a few loyal clients, but I’m not in some top percentage or anything. I’m hot, I’ll admit it, but I’m not trying to be the queen of Onlyfans.
As shocked and happy as I was with that amount of money for that little work, I remembered to keep my cool. And maintain my persona.
“I’m glad u like it Al. Anything for u ;)”
I tried to stifle the vivid thought that this guy was jerking off to a circle I just drew in sharpie on my shitty apartment floor.
“Ur the best”
Great. Easiest money of my life.
Thinking we were done, I moved to start my livestream. But then he surprised me.
“Wanna make 5k tonite?” - Al
Wut.
But I kept my cool. Always keep your cool with guys like this.
“You mean $3k more?”
“No sry. I mean $5k more.”
Okay, fuck the livestream. This guy could pay my bills for life.
“Anything for you Al”
Okay, obviously I’m not gonna do anything for this rando, but the guy who gets off on drawings probably isn’t gonna ask me to cut off my nipples all of the sudden.
“YESYESYESSS. I just need u 2 say soemthing and video tape it”
I’m not gonna lie. This request was another curveball. And his frantic messaging style was a little weird. But I know how hard it is to type with one hand. Not to be crass. (Also fuck you. Don’t be a prude. You’re still reading this.)
“what do u want me to say daddy?”
Okay, it was a shot in the dark, but a pretty substantial portion of my clients like it. And I kind of like it too.
No reply. Crickets.
Shit. Maybe I fucked up. A bridge too far.
I cursed myself for not just playing it safe to get another $5k. I could have had $8,000 tonight.
But then. A message. I wrinkled my brow reading it. Because it looked like complete nonsense:
“Klg’mna isetheh plmentu Klg’mnerbix mgnaph” - Al
I tried reading it about 30 times. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.
“ummmmm. did u have a stroke?”
“LOL. No. Addie u are so funny. Just say those words. Video 4 me”
This guy could not be fucking serious. I sat for a second. Chewed my fingernails.
I started thinking about this. Really thinking about it.
Something felt off. This was weird, right? Possibilities started running through my head.
This guy doesn’t know who I am, does he? Did he dox me?
Was this Tyler playing some kind of sick joke? I didn’t think he had the money for this, but there’s always complaining after the fact to try to get a refund. And fuck he could be spiteful. “Here’s Addison, my slutty ex. She’ll do anything for a dollar. I made her say fucking nonsense and draw shit on her floor while she dressed like a slutty pirate. Anybody else want a turn?”
I looked down at myself, what I was wearing, and at the themed lingerie I had for later in the stream.
And my mother’s words rang through me: “You can make as much money as you want. It doesn’t matter if you don’t respect yourself.”
I’d never seen anything like this. And I was buying into it hook, line, and sinker. I felt like an idiot. And I suddenly felt tears forming at the corners of my eyes. Thankfully another message snapped me out of it.
“Pls! I need it. Promise I’m not messing with u” - Al
Almost like he heard my thoughts. And even better, with the message, another $500 sent.
“Thts just 4 u. I’ll still give $5k more”
Okay. Eight thousand for a single night? Fucking count me in, Tyler and my mom be damned. I wiped my eyes, resolved myself to put on my big girl pants, and resumed this little game.
“alright I’ll do it! Calm down big boy. ;) Any tips for pronunciation? What language is it?”
No reply for a moment.
Then, not a message, but an audio clip.
Alright. At this point, with how much he’s spent, he’s earned me taking a listen. I put on my headphones. And then opened it.
There was just a crackling silence for a few seconds. Then, a strange guttural voice started. Raspy. Like James Earl Jones but after a thousand cigarettes. He spoke the words right into my ears. It was very intimate, almost sensual.
Al was not like I imagined him, if it even was Al. The recording felt old somehow. Very old. Like those recordings from when people used phonographs or whatever they’re called.
I felt chills shoot down my spine. Something about the recording felt very wrong. Instinctively I panicked. I ripped off my headphones and threw them on the ground without even realizing what I was doing.
I sat there for a moment.
My breathing was sharp. Rapid. My skin was tingling with goosebumps.
A chime nearly made me jump.
“U there? Did u listen?” - Al
I checked myself. Was I getting this worked up over an audio clip from some random guy?
This was his kink. No big deal. Sure, it was “unique”, and it made no sense to me, but I don’t make a habit of judging people. I wouldn’t have a job if I did.
I collected myself and replied. Back to fantasy Addie:
“Yes! I got it! I’ll say it and record now”
“Yes Addie ur the BEST.”
I took another stab with my message. Who knows? Maybe I could make even more off of him.
“Want me wearing anything? ;)”
“Wear whatever u want. Just say the words. And make sure u do it in front of the drawing”
That’s funny. I don’t usually get the cold shoulder, especially when I offer something like that.
But I shouldn’t be surprised. It just was an escalation of the first thing. I already knew he wasn’t like any of the usual clients - not so easy to please. In a way, it was refreshing he didn’t just want me for my body. Instead, I’d be making $5,000 for my art and acting skills, and that kind of gave me a little thrill.
So I set my phone up on my desk. Positioned the camera so it faced me. Kneeled down around the circle. And said the words as best I could.
“Klg’mna isetheh plmentu Klg’mnerbix mgnaph.” I said it slowly. Still butchering the words.There was no way this guy was gonna be happy - hope it wasn’t his first language or anything. If it was, he’d probably be offended. I stopped the video, preparing to try again.
Then a chime from my laptop. I glanced at the message.
“YES YESSS. keep saying. AGAIN”
Wait. I wasn’t live-streaming. And I hadn’t sent him anything yet. How did he know I was doing it? Did he just trust me that much?
My doubts were quelled when another chime announced five thousand dollars going into my account. So I did what anybody would do. I kept saying it. Over and over again. Recording the whole time.
And with it, more chimes. More messages. Tipping me to keep repeating this nonsense phrase.
It was all fair game. Until something started to feel strange.
A chill struck me. And a guttural, chittering hum, like from the audio clip, resonated through the air. Like other voices were speaking with me.
As I looked around the space, I no longer saw my centipede-infested New York apartment. I saw something else, like a hallucination, a desert mirage after a death-defying heatstroke.
And I felt that I was no longer “me”.
I was… someone else. Someone in a far-away place, in a time that wasn’t now. Seeing things not meant for Addison.
I sat in a vast, oppressive city that stretched out interminably, row after row of towering industrial architecture jutting out at impossible angles. A skyline of crooked spires climbed high above where I could crane my neck to see, their throats coughing black smoke into a sky polluted with the putrescent color of sickly green.
And in that same sky, an innumerable collection of impossibly black, umbral stars. And they somehow felt… alive.
A wave of irrepressible horror shot through me. A sudden, icy realization of the existence of things I could not name. Could not understand. Their names, unutterable, except by a language already long dead when the planets were young and the sun was cold. But the mere existence of these beings somehow filled me with a sense of purpose. Of appreciation for what could come and what was to come and what had to come. What must come.
As I sat in that city where time had no place and God had no reign, whose name I numbly knew to be Klg’mnerbix , I felt the sable stars turn their malefic gaze straight towards me. I saw an engulfing green sky teeming with countless shadowy beings who knew me and knew my shame and fear and wanted me nonetheless, wanted me more for it. As if they saw me and straight through me and through my soul and every life I had lived in every past existence stretching through to the antediluvian eons of our feckless, aimless wandering.
But that wandering was now at an end.
Because I was myself. I was my ancestors. I was an ant, beholding the great works of mankind, my consciousness registering a thousandth, a ten-thousandth, a hundred-thousandth of their designs for an unaware, ungrateful universe.
The stars yawned. Bellowed. And the green sky turned black.
The world tilted. Turned in on itself. An endless city of onyx devouring itself and devouring itself and devouring itself and swallowing whole the children of ancient Methusaleh and greedy Belial and thirsting Klg’mna and these half-wrought children begging for their mercy and devouring themselves as well, for they were imitators of a god they would never know, never fathom, a purpureal abyss of eldritch origins awaiting them and us all, a womb, a warm wet engulfing swallowing hungry womb and -
BING!
My phone chimed.
I was back in my apartment. Sitting in front of my drawing.
My chin was coated with drool. Jesus. How long had I been out? And what had I just seen? Was it a dream? Almost like reading the words put me in some strange trance.
Last thing I could remember was the video. I looked at my phone.
It was almost dead. Because it had been recording for two hours. I stopped it. Scanned back through the video. It was just me, sitting in place. Repeating that phrase for Al.
For two fucking hours.
BING!
I glanced at my computer.
“You have done well.” - Al
He sure got my attention. Because the notification that came through told me something impossible.
Over the past two hours, Al had sent me $40,000.
I stared at my computer, awestruck. Did I just make nearly $50k for a drawing and mumbling some nonsense? I almost felt bad for the guy. But who knows - I could have been talking to Jeff Bezos, incognito.
Another message. This one made me stop. And made my mouth go dry.
“You have done what was asked. You have made this High Priest weep with quiet jubilation.”
The two hours that I passed out went through my mind again. Sending icy shivers through my whole body. But then I realized something. Tried to keep my cool. But I had to say it.
“What? Lol. I never sent you the video”
He didn’t reply for a moment. But when he did, I felt myself shudder.
“But there is still more to be done. Addison, you are one of the heralds for the Great Beckoning. In this life and the next. ”
What in the fuck is this guy talking about? He cums and is suddenly a completely different person. This was absolutely nuts. And more to be done? What else could he be asking of me?
But something about what he said struck something in me. Like a dream I couldn’t quite remember. A taste on the tip of my tongue. A city. Someone watching me from above me. Or…something? I had no idea.
“Wut are you talking about? You’re scaring me”
There was a long silence.
“Al?? What’s going on???”
Again I tried.
“AL TALK TO ME. ILL CALL THE COPS”
My breathing was ragged. Harsh. I was sweating. I felt terror gripping me. I was near to having a panic attack.
And then another message.
This time, it was a video attachment. With a trembling hand, I clicked it.
There he was.
Al. A kindly, seemingly harmless older man. Clean-shaven, a little heavyset, wearing what looked like a dark bathrobe. He was in a dark space. I couldn’t tell if it was a den or basement, but the walls almost looked like they were made of granite or stone or something. And I have to say, he scared me.
Because he didn’t say a word. He just smiled. A grin that contained a happiness that I was almost jealous of in that moment. Pure, endless glee, like a giddy child. He maintained that smile for a long time. Not moving a muscle. And I couldn’t look away.
He finally spoke. His voice was trembling with excitation.
“After a lifetime of service, my Rite is complete. I leave you now, hopeful that the world will soon be as it was dreamt of in Their ancient slumber. After countless millennia, dreams which were merely dreams… may beget reality. You must do this for others, Addison, as I have done for you. You must make them see the light… Draw the symbol. Invoke his name. One by one. One new acolyte for every moon that passes.”
Al leaned in close, his eyes suddenly glinting with a chilling malice.
“Do this. Or you may experience tortures beyond your wildest imagination. Tortures that will last a thousand lifetimes, tortures beyond your wildest nightmares. But if you listen, if you obey, your rewards will be everlasting… Remember, this is only the beginning.”
He smiled again. And then his smile faded. And became something more akin to orgasmic euphoria.
He lifted something into frame. A large, jagged knife. And never breaking his gaze, he did something shocking.
He pulled the blade across his throat. Slashing it open. As casually as if it was a friendly wave.
Blood poured out in streams. Spilling out all over him. Soaking his robe.
He shook with pleasure. In rapture as the warm flow of death overtook him.
The expression was familiar. I’d seen it on my clients’ faces countless times. Usually it was followed by the comedown. The acknowledgement of their shame as the orgasm faded and they prepared themselves to face boring, grim reality.
But his face…
It never lost that glow.
I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t shut off the video. As the man bled out. Unblinking. Until he slumped forward. The video continued for a few silent, agonizing moments.
Then it cut out.
I was shaking. Tears streaked down my face, mascara stinging my eyes. And my blood was as cold as ice.
I didn’t understand what had happened. Was I responsible for this man’s suicide? I thought it was a silly drawing, a funny phrase, a client with a kink that I hadn’t seen yet. But in reality, I knew in my heart I had been drawn into something more horrifying than I could ever imagine.
And his final words… They were a threat. A promise. If I didn’t do what he said, they’d come for me. I don’t know who and I don’t know why, but they needed their word spread. Their gospel. Once every moon, a new acolyte…
—–
All of that was a year ago. Since then, I pick one follower a month. Usually the most disrespectful or demanding. But sometimes, just the most gullible. And I make them take part in the same little ritual I did.
I’ve tried to avoid passing it on, sharing this strange curse, but when the moon reaches its fullest, and the cycle draws to a close, if I haven’t found my victim yet, I begin to see things. Hear things. I tried it once, just to see if Al’s threat was true.
It was.
It starts at the end of the first week, somewhere deep in the shadows. Little movements on the edges of them, like blurring the lines between our world and theirs, little tricks on the brain. By the second week, I begin to hear voices in the night. Urgent, furtive whispers. They begin as panicked chittering, but as the third week comes to pass, they grow angrier. More threatening.
By the fourth week, the shadows have eyes, and they watch me from the darkened corners and lonely spaces, willing me to do their bidding. Soon, they grow mouths. Desperate, hungry mouths that lick their lips as they wait for me to fulfill my bargain. They creep closer and closer to my bed as I sleep, eager to take their opportunity if I don’t. I can feel them.
One month, I waited until the night of the full moon, just as it was about to wane. I walked to the window. Pulled aside my curtains. Lifted the shades.
The sky was green. The stars were black.
And they were smiling at me. Their mouths full of row after row of jagged teeth. They promised me the endless torment Al had warned of. It had to be in my head…
I closed my curtains, went inside, and messaged a loyal follower. Within the hour, I had passed it on.
And just like that, everything went back to normal. No more creeping shadows. No more hushed whispers. When I opened my curtains, the moon gleamed back at me. And the stars kept their silent vigil as they always had – faintly visible over the city lights.
So I never made that mistake again. In fact, I never even wait past the first week.
Why am I telling you this? Other than for you to think of me as some insane girl who lost her mind after the stress of seeing a client do something so horrible. So traumatic.
Because if you’ve been reading this far, I can tell that you care. And I can tell that you probably understand that I live in constant fear, in constant terror from the madness and horror I desperately try to stave off. I barely eat. I barely sleep.
But the guilt is the worst part. Knowing that I’m passing it on just the same. Passing on the same thing I made my bargain for…
So I want to give you a warning, and ask you to please listen. If you get a profile like mine reaching out to you, asking you to do something strange, offering you something you very much want… Think twice.
It might be someone like me. And then you’ll see the shadows too.