I found a link buried on an old darkweb forum. I wish I never clicked it.

The Dark Web.

The name itself is a meme. It’s become the boomer boogeyman, the back alley of the internet where you go to get your kidneys harvested and sold off to a billionaire’s all-you-can-torture buffet. It’s the skeezy part of town. The no man’s land of the digital world, chock-full of society’s most vile scum.

It’s also pretty boring.

See, the dark web really isn’t that much different than the surface web. Sure, it has a cooler name and better privacy, but most people use it for the same shit. Social media? Check. Shopping? Check. Pirating movies? Duh. Did you know Facebook exists on the dark web? You do now.

My parents are terrified of the 'dark web'. They speak about it hushed breaths, sort of like Ron Weasley talks about Lord Voldemort. It’s as though they think uttering its name too loudly will invoke the wrath of some serial hacker, just waiting in the wings to delete their bank accounts.

Ridiculous, right? I told them they were paranoid. To prove them wrong, I even downloaded the Tor browser and uninstalled Google Chrome. There’s nothing to fear on the dark web, I said, so long as you’ve got half a brain’s worth of sense in you.

Now I wish I could take it all back.

I stumbled across the website after a long night of drinking. I’d been out with Jared, my best friend since childhood, reminiscing about the good old days of driving Mrs. Crabtree up the wall. When I got home, I felt a bit nostalgic so I went digging for old pictures on Facebook. Like most drunk missions, one thing lead to another, and I landed on an old thread listing the MOST EXCITING WEBSITES ON THE DARK WEB.

Most were fairly vanilla. Some free textbooks here, a bit of hacked video games there. I scrolled down through the responses until I found one buried beneath the others. It had just a single upvote. MonsterCall143d1▇▇▇.onion

I stared at the link for a few seconds, then cracked a fresh beer and said fuck it.

The website was plain, mostly white text on a black background. Across the top was a banner emblazoned with the words CALL YOUR MONSTERS. I cracked a grin. It was kind of cute, in an edgelord, emo kid sort of way.

After clicking through a few menu links, I landed on the ORDER A MONSTER page. It said that, for $99, they would deliver a personalized monster to a doorstep of my choice. Free shipping, too. The flavor text read:

“Perfect for getting even with terrible bosses, backstabbing friends, and childhood enemies!”

I laughed. The idea was absolute gold. They even had a Monster Call Guarantee of same-day shipping. How they managed to pull that off, I had no idea. Maybe they had a network of paid actors, patiently waiting to dress up in Halloween costumes and say a few canned lines on somebody’s doorstep. Or maybe it was like Build-a-Bear, where you got to design your own stuffed version of ghouls like Dracula and the Wolfman.

Whatever it was, I decided I was far too drunk to give a shit about how they made it happen. All I knew was a hundred bucks was a damn steal. I smashed the order button and it brought me to a follow-up page titled DESIGN YOUR MONSTER.

I practically licked my lips. This was the juicy bit! The website gave me a drop-down list of selectable options based on modifiable body parts. The mouth, for instance, had FANGS, BROKEN TEETH, NO MOUTH, MULTIPLE MOUTHS, and TOO MANY TEETH.

I thought the idea of too many teeth sounded ridiculous enough to be awesome, so I picked that and went down the list and selected the rest of the monster’s attributes, including its body type, its subspecies, and finally its ‘power’.

The next page said LEAVE A MESSAGE. I mulled it over for a few minutes before deciding to keep it simple. I typed 'boo' into the text field.

Once I was finished, I clicked COMPLETE and it brought me to a new screen that made me jump. It was a webcam video of me, staring shocked at my laptop. The stream was live. At the top of the page, a red text banner proclaimed PERFORM THE BLOOD SACRIFICE.

I cocked an eyebrow. What? As if in answer to my confusion, a list of instructions faded into view on the bottom of the screen.

1. UTTER THE NAME OF YOUR RECIPIENT
2. PIERCE YOUR SKIN
3. CONSUME YOUR BLOOD

I burst out laughing. This was too wild! Not only were they gonna deliver a ‘monster’ to somebody’s doorstep, but they were gonna include a goofy ritual video too.

Alright, I decided, I’m game. I went downstairs and grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and headed back up to my room. Holding my hand up with a coy grin, I pricked my thumb with the tip of the blade.

“Jared Mayhew!” I announced dramatically. I stuffed my bleeding thumb into my mouth and sucked it clean. Then I held it up, drunk and proud, as evidence of my dark ritual complete. Seconds passed and nothing happened. Then, the screen went black and a new page appeared.

ORDER COMPLETE! DELIVERY IN PROGRESS.

I sipped my beer, wondering how Jared would react to my spooky surprise landing on his doorstep tomorrow. I really hoped they included the blood sacrifice bit. Jared and his wife, Alyssa, both hated blood, so they’d never let me live it down-- and that was exactly what I wanted.

A couple of seconds later, a new screen popped up.

DELIVERY COMPLETE. STANDBY FOR RESULTS.

Already? That didn’t make any sense. How did they manage to create my order and ship it across the country, all in the span of five minutes? 

A depressing realization swept over me. My drunk ass had been duped. There was no way they’d be able to ship something that quickly, so the only explanation was A) it was a scam, or B) it was just some lame email jump-scare.

Fuck.

Now the $99 made more sense. There was no way a tiny start-up could offer same-day delivery and a compelling product for so little money. It was a pipedream logistically.

Defeated, I decided that was enough dark web shopping for one night and time to pack it in. I closed my laptop, brushed my teeth, and hopped into bed.

My phone vibrated.

I stared at it, wondering who would be messaging me at this hour. Jared, maybe? He was just as drunk as I was and probably high as a kite by now too. I picked it up and saw one new email from MONSTERCALL. Odd. I never gave them my email address.

ORDER DELIVERED!

CLICK HERE TO VIEW RESULTS.

View results? I heaved a sigh. This was either a virus or some guarantee that Jared got a corny ‘spooky’ email. Still drunk, still making poor decisions, I clicked the link and it opened a video feed.

Of Jared’s house.

I sat up, my tiredness vanishing in a tidal wave of what the fuck. The video was dimly lit, and the way it bobbed up and down looked like it was being recorded off of somebody’s cellphone. Jared’s small, two-bedroom home was there in all of its suburban glory. Something about the video felt off, though. Wrong.

I told myself to relax. This was just some prank or gag. The company probably put out a call for a fraction of the money to any locals, and somebody pulled the contract. No doubt they were going to walk up the front steps, knock on his door, and then say boo and run off or some shit. It wasn’t a big deal. So why was my heart racing?

The video neared the house, the footsteps going slowly. In the silence of the night, I heard the person behind the camera breathing. They sounded frightened. Scared. Why?

Lights went on inside the house, painting the windows in a dull yellow glow. I squinted, seeing dark shapes darting behind the curtains.

Thoroughly confused, I decided to message Jared and ask if he got my surprise.

TERRANCE: sup dude, you get my special delivery?? haha

JARED: HE,P

JARED: SKMWTHING

JARED: INSIDE THE HOUSE

Dark splotches splattered against the curtains. A moment later, a woman’s scream rang out, and the window shattered. Two hands reached out from behind the billowing curtains, gripping the side of the windowsill. Then two more gripped the top. A figure emerged, lurching out of the opening and into the yard.

It looked familiar. Jesus Christ, it looked familiar.

It stood eight feet tall, with large bat wings flared out behind it, and four crooked, muscular arms clenching in and out of fists. The person behind the camera stumbled backward, muttering something incoherent. The creature swiveled its head toward them.

The video feed shifted. Images of the sidewalk flew up and down as the cameraman ran full-tilt from Jared’s house, heaving panicked gasps. I caught muffled fragments of prayers. Then a shriek sounded, followed by the flap of powerful wings.

The video crashed, tumbling in a blur of pixels. A man’s voice shouted for help, and then something heavy crunched, and his voice died with a wheeze. Another shriek filled the night, and a shadow appeared, gazing down toward the discard cellphone. It had four arms, a pair of wings, and a mouth filled with rows and rows of teeth.

Too many teeth.

I lurched forward, swallowing the vomit in my throat. In one of the creature’s arms was a thirty-something man, struggling wordlessly against the monster’s might. His chest looked like it’d been caved in. The creature leaned towards him, pressed its teeth against his face, and slowly bit down. The man's legs kicked and jolted as the beast’s teeth began rotating like a blender, tearing his flesh from his skull.

It dropped him there, convulsing and dying, then beat its great wings and took off into the sky. Moments later I heard confused shouts. Footsteps pounded against the pavement. More hollers. People called for the police, other neighbors told children to get back inside.

I put my phone down, horrified. It had to have been a joke. There simply was no way that had actually happened. It couldn’t have. It was too gruesome-- too violent. That was digital effects all the way. It had to be. They were great at those these days.

Weren’t they?

The next day I got a call from Jared’s parents. His mother tried to talk, but she couldn’t get past the tears, so she put Jared’s father on the line. He explained that something terrible happened last night.

My heart slammed in my chest.

"W-what happened?" I asked. I told myself to relax, that there was nothing to worry about. Monsters didn't exist. I knew that.

"Terrance," he said quietly. "This isn't easy to talk about, and it's harder to hear, but last night somebody broke into Jared and Alyssa's home. Police think it was sometime around two in the morning."

My jaw hung limp, my hand trembling as I held the phone to my ear. A terrible coincidence. That's all it was. A terrible, horrible coincidence.

"I don't know how to say this," he said "so I'm just going to come right out with it." He took a deep, shuddering breath, and when he spoke again his voice was as fragile as glass. "The intruder that broke in? He mutilated them."

"Mutilated?" I said in a small voice. "Oh my god... Jesus."

"Yes. I'm sorry to tell you all this, but you were his-- well, you were best friend, and I think it's better that you hear this from me than the newspaper."

He paused, as though summoning the courage to say the next words.

"According to the police, the psychopath that broke in gnawed their faces off."

Vomit rose in my stomach. I forced it down. "Oh christ, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." I ran a hand through my hair, gripping it forcefully and pulling on it, praying the pain would wake me from this nightmare. "Please, Roger, let me handle the funeral preparations. You and Charlene should take this time to grieve, you--"

"That's the thing," Roger said, his voice tremoring with emotion. "There won't be a funeral."

"What?"

"They're still alive, Terrance. That son of a bitch left them, broken and bleeding, to live with the torture he'd inflicted on them." He choked back a sob before recomposing himself. "So far there's no trace of the bastard. The only lead the cops have is a crumpled note they found on the doorstep."

"He left a note?"

"Yeah. But it was just one word. Practically useless."

I swallowed. "What did it say?"

​

"Boo."

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TCC