The dark web is a fascinating place. I shouldn’t have ever found it, but I did, owing to my strong inclination towards matters related to IT and an unquenchable thirst to learn about anything related to the computers and the internet. I had found many disturbing things on the dark web, like websites selling everything from play-doh to the children who played with it, and some selling cars or second hand computers. But a few days ago I found one particular website that intrigued me greatly.
I won’t give the name out here, but the best way I can describe it is by saying that it was just like reddit, but for serial killers. At first I thought this whole site was some sort of practical joke, but some of the posts on there were written with such sincerity and seriousness that it was rather hard to believe that what I was reading was purely satire. I remember chuckling to myself when I first found a post about a man murdering a family of five. But as I read the post, I felt bile rising up in my throat. I discovered to my horror, that these people were actual, deranged, serial killers.
Even after finding out that this was a platform crawling with legitimate psychos, I still couldn’t let it go. To my dismay, most of the primary targets were young attractive women in their 20’s. This fucked with my head, because I fit their criteria perfectly. I found that I became increasingly paranoid, seeing stalkers everywhere, and got more and more frightened of going to the supermarket alone.
Most of them were just people of average IQ who thirsted for blood and violence in an effort to seem dangerous. These dumb ones sometimes gave out important details in their posts involving their location or the identity of their victims. Very few of them were actually intelligent killers who actually took joy in killing, who stalked and profiled their victims carefully before hunting them down. It was these posts that scared me the most. One such user drew my attention. His posts weren’t gory like the rest. They were written in an artistic, almost eerily beautiful way. His writing was sophisticated yet simple. I had found my first truly dangerous psycho.
His username was PorcelainSkinBlondeHair. So apparently he had a type. After stalking him, a found a folder on his profile with pictures….of every single one of his victims. A few pictures of them while they were alive, and one when they were dead. Unlike the other killers, he didn’t take pictures of them going to work, at the supermarket, or walking back home. The pictures were taken when Mr.BathAndBodyWorks and the woman were at dinner or watching a movie together.
He had dated all of these women before murdering them, which just made him scarier. Then I came across a picture of one his victims after he had his way with her. My food rapidly rose up to my throat and my eyes filled with tears as I stumbled to my bathroom and puked my lungs out. Tears and saliva were flowing down my face as I collapsed shaking in front of my toilet.
His bio made so much more sense now.
“I want to sleep on her soft, blonde hair and use her porcelain skin as a blanket.”
I had discovered the closest thing to an actual incubus. A menace to human kind, the most psychotic, demonic thing I’ve ever come across. He made my organs turn in my body. This man wasn’t human.
Each adventure of his lasted just over a a few weeks. And just yesterday he posted pictures of his latest victim. I gasped and covered my hand with my mouth as I pushed my laptop away from me. I knew her. I knew that girl. She was the pretty one who worked as a cashier at my grocery store. I had seen almost a doll-like, handsome blonde man come pick her up in his car many times when her shift ended.
He was here. He was here in my neighborhood.
My breath came is bursts as sweat poured down my forehead as I staggered away from my desk. I clutched my chair for support as my brain struggled to process everything that my eyes had just read. As I stood in the middle of my living room, it was sheer willpower that kept me on my feet. Just then, there was a knock on my door.
I crept towards the door as quietly as I could. Whoever or whatever was on the other side must have sensed my presence even though I didn’t make a single noise. A quiet voice, resembling that of a child’s said sofly;
“You have very nice skin.”