Haunting The Murderers' Chatroom

As he came to, Dean opened his eyes only to find himself inside of the dumpster with the only light source being the weak light that slipped through what he could only consider being the lid of the dumpster.

He couldn't help but notice that his body felt disgusting and wet. Moreover, the air was awash with a putrid odor of rotten food and other sickening odors.

Remembering his previous ordeal, Dean attempted to sit up only to find that his body was still incapacitated. Everything below his neck was immobile no matter how he screamed at them to move.

Giving up his effort to move his body, he sluggishly opened his mouth to scream for help only to be greeted by an irritating croaking sound like the spirit from The Grudge.

'Well I may not be able to move my body, but at least everything seems to be alright. Or as well as one could be in this situation.'

Just as he was about to make his second attempt he was interrupted by the wet squelch of someone chewing on something. 'That's right! That fellow from before wouldn't just leave after going through all of the trouble to bring me in here now would he?'

Dean glanced into an obscured corner of the dumpster and the sight that greeted him made his heart clench. The man from before was s.u.c.k.i.n.g d.o.g.g.y buddies leg bone with apparent dissatisfaction. S.u.c.k.i.n.g the last bits of meat off of the leg, the man tossed the leg to the side before training his gaze upon him.

"You're finally up huh? Making me go through all that trouble to chase you down and bring you in here. The next time someone tells you to come here just be obedient and do it."

'Chase. what chase? You and your blow dart made sure that there was no chase and who would obediently listen to the words of an obviously suspicious fellow when he tells you to come towards him?'

Dean opened his mouth in an attempt to convey his thoughts to the man only to be rewarded with another round of croaking sounds.

"Shh, there's no need to say anything. It's just us in here and I don't have the habit of talking with my food."

'What?! Food? What is this man talking about?' As he struggled to wrap his mind around the gravity of the situation, Dean thought back to d.o.g.g.y buddy's situation and regrettably realized what he meant.

With this realization, beads of cold sweat slithered down his face as the fear he'd been trying to suppress erupted causing his eyes to frantically dart around and his breath to come in sporadic heaves and convulsions.

Noticing this change, the man's eyes gained a dangerous gleam as he proceeded to waddle through the garbage that rested between them. As he waddled towards Dean, he started to salivate as he began to murmur to no one in particular.

"Not enough. It's not enough anymore. I can't keep living off of just the animals in my neighborhood anymore. The raw flesh of rats, squirrels, birds, rabbits, cats, and dogs can only take you so far before you start to want more you know."

His murmuring had transitioned to incoherent ramblings as he continued, "Luckily, just as I had reached my limit with animal flesh, I ran across that chat group that caters to individuals like myself with needs that society refuses to provide for. Hehe, it must be a sign from above telling me to satisfy my craving that you walked by just as I was having my last taste of inferior animal meat."

Having said all that, the man seemed to have grown impatient as he worked with increased fervor to remove my socks and shoes before rolling up my pants leg.

At this point, Dean had given up all hope as he accepted that he was going to meet the same fate as d.o.g.g.y buddy. 'So there's a whole chat group of individuals like him huh? Each one with some sick and twisted fetish.' As tears streamed down his cheeks, Dean thought about the injustice of his situation and his inability to change it.

Unwilling to quietly lie there he screamed internally, 'ALL OF YOU! In my next life, I swear to kill all you evil sc.u.m that sacrifices others to satisfy their d.e.s.i.r.es! Just wash your necks and wait for me you bastards!'

"The legs are my favorite." With that last sentence, the man bit greedily into Dean's leg with obvious relish.

As he did so, Dean screamed with every fiber of his being as the white-hot pain shot up from his leg straight into his brain. Sadly, whatever was in that blow dart didn't even allow him that luxury as only a somewhat louder croaking sound was all that left his lips.

Thus, the inside of the dumpster came to resemble something straight out of a nightmare as Dean's croaking and the wet squelches of his flesh being ripped from his bones were all that remained aside from the occasional dripping sound of his blood sliding down the man's chin into the puddle of blood beneath them.

As the blood and flesh left his body, Dean could feel himself becoming cold as he slipped away into something deeper than unconsciousness deeper than sleep even. Just as the last inklings of life were leaving his body he heard a voice utter sentences that he'd only encountered in online web novels.

"System is checking to see if the potential host has met a sufficient number of parameters."

"All parameters are met and the system will now begin the binding process with the new host."

"Binding complete."

"Welcome, host to the Dark Web System."