Estimated reading time — 2 minutes
I try to not think of it. But it haunts me. We’ve all heard stories about this place, about all those who go are never the same. There a few words in school about it, mainly of how much of a terrible place it is. I’ve heard of one story where a girl went in there for only 5 minutes and saw all sorts of abysmal things. Of Men who linger there, still, for hours, sitting patiently and looking for easy prey and of images that are so nerve-wracking, so perverse and so grotesque that all who see them cannot forget them. And even stories of people who go there and instantly become addicted.
They say it’s the “Prison in the Sea of Knowledge”.
I have only been there once. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was only 15 and at that age the stories I heard from that place were so macabre that my curiosity was just too great. I needed to know where this place was and how I could get there. After all, I had never heard of anything physically harmful there (other than the addiction).
I was so young and naïve then. I went seeking for those that have gone.
I heard online that there is three sure ways of finding someone that has been there: One: They must have a wicked sense of humor; Two: they must never be serious and Three: they must always seem unscathed from the place.
That’s when I met John.
John had always laughed at someone getting hurt or somebody throwing up; he practically lived off of the pain of others. He also seemed a bit jubilant; he must have been on “there” for hours. But he seemed strangely “normal” in a way.
I soon found that to be false. In fact, He was far from normal.
John told me stories of this place.
Some of the god-awful images and a number of stories pertaining to what he called “Creeps”.
He told me of the men just like the girl had seen; he told me he knew those men.
“John where is this place?” I questioned.
Credit To – Chris Locke