It was a typical Wednesday night when I logged onto Reddit, looking for some entertainment before bed. I had always been a fan of the horror subreddit, and tonight was no different. I was scrolling through the posts, laughing at the memes and creepy stories, when I came across a post by a user called “SatanWorship”.
The post was simply a link to a video of a woman singing, but as soon as I heard her voice, I was hooked. It was unlike anything I had ever heard before - a mixture of beauty and madness that sent shivers down my spine. I couldn’t stop listening, and I barely noticed as the minutes turned into hours.
Eventually, I tore myself away from the video and checked the comments. There were hundreds of replies from other users, all of them raving about the singer. And then, I saw a reply from SatanWorship.
“Hello, my love,” the message read. “I saw that you were enjoying my song, and I wanted to thank you. My name is Stacy, I have been searching for someone like you for a long time, someone who can appreciate the beauty of my voice and the power of my madness. Do you want to meet me in person?”
I was both intrigued and terrified by the message. On one hand, I was flattered that a woman as beautiful and talented as Stacy would be interested in me. On the other hand, I had a feeling that meeting her in person would be a very bad idea.
But I couldn’t resist the lure of Stacy’s voice, and I found myself responding to her message. We talked online for hours, and the more I talked to her, the more I realized that she was completely insane. She ranted about sacrificing people to the devil and drinking their blood, and she seemed to have a particular fascination with me.
I tried to back out of the conversation, but Stacy was relentless. She kept messaging me, pleading with me to meet her in person. And eventually, I caved.
We made plans to meet at the old abandoned church on the outskirts of town. I knew it was a risky move, but I couldn’t resist the pull of Stacy’s voice. And so, on a dark and stormy night, I found myself standing outside the church, waiting for Stacy to arrive.
She showed up a few minutes later, dressed in all black and wearing a wicked grin. “Hello, my love,” she said, taking my hand and leading me inside. “I have been waiting for this moment for a long time.”
The inside of the church was even more decrepit than the outside, with cobwebs covering the walls and the floorboards creaking under our feet. But I barely noticed as Stacy led me to the altar and sat me down.
“I have a special ceremony planned for tonight, my love,” she said, pulling out a knife and a chalice. “We are going to sacrifice you to the devil and drink your blood. And then, you will be mine forever.”
I tried to run, but my legs wouldn’t move. I was hit over the head with something and I fell to the ground, Stacy’s voice was still playing in my head, and I was powerless to resist it. When I awoke I was already on a sacrificial table, I closed my eyes, waiting for the end.
But the end never came. Instead, I heard a commotion behind me, and then, I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” a voice said.
I opened my eyes to see a group of people standing over me, including a police officer and a couple of EMTs. They were talking to Stacy, who was screaming and ranting about sacrificing me to the devil.
I tried to speak, but my voice was barely a whisper. One of the EMTs crouched down next to me and smiled. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now,” he said. “We got a call about a disturbance at the church, and when we arrived, we found you unconscious on the altar. It looks like you were drugged.”
I nodded, still too stunned to speak. The EMT helped me to my feet and led me outside, where an ambulance was waiting. I climbed inside and collapsed onto the gurney, still trying to process what had happened.
As the ambulance drove away, I turned to the EMT and whispered, “Thank you.”
He smiled and patted my hand. “It’s my job,” he said. “But I have a feeling you’re going to be okay.”
I spent the next few days in the hospital, recovering from the effects of the drugs and the trauma of my encounter with Stacy. The police arrested her and charged her with attempted murder, and I was relieved to know that she would never be able to hurt anyone else again.
As I lay in my hospital bed, I couldn’t help but wonder how I had gotten mixed up with a deranged psychopath like Stacy. I had always been careful about who I talked to online, but I had been drawn in by her voice and her charms. I vowed to be more careful in the future, and to trust my instincts when it came to strangers.
I was released from the hospital a few days later, and I returned home with a newfound appreciation for life. I may always carry the memory of Stacy’s voice and her madness with me, but I know that I am stronger for having survived her. And I am grateful to the people who saved me, for showing me that there is still good in the world.