There are truly horrifying things being worked on in remote places, this is what I saw

This story happened a few years ago. I was out of work after getting out of the army and I didn’t know what to do with myself. Eventually I reached out to an old army buddy of mine and he told me about how he had hooked up with a private military company, he offered to put my name in and being desperate I told him to go ahead.

Pretty soon I had an offer, it was pretty crappy, I would have to go up to a remote part of Alaska and stay on a research base, I wouldn’t even know what my duties were until I got there. At the same time, the pay was good, and I didn’t really have much else going for me so I reluctantly accepted.

A month later and I was helicoptered from Anchorage deep into the Alaskan wilderness. It seemed like nothing man made had ever been in this place and then, out of nowhere, the research base appeared.

We landed and I was escorted into a security room where I was asked a few questions about my mental health and then briefed on the role I would be taking at the base. I was going to be a janitor. A janitor. It really peeved me off that I had come all this way to sweep floors and I asked why they needed ex-military to do housework. They explained that the work being done at the facility was very confidential, to the point that they weren’t even allowed to disclose who was behind the research itself, except that it was private. Thus, they needed people used to taking orders and as they put it “not asking too many questions”. After they reminded me of how much I’d be making I begrudgingly accepted and started my job as a janitor in the middle of nowhere.

The first month or so was pretty boring. The base had three levels and it was my job to clean up the first two, the third was off limits except to a few people granted a special security clearance. For the most part I kept to myself but I did wind up becoming buddies with one of the scientists. We were both really into baseball and we shot the shit whenever we happened to run into each other.

After that first month though, things started to get weirder. People started whispering to each other and speaking in hushed tones. The more leisurely pace the base had before started to become more hectic as people rushed around from lab to lab. I asked my friend what was up and he explained that a big experiment they were doing on the third level was about to start. I asked him what the experiment was and he got a little nervous and tried to change the conversation. I pressed him for more info and eventually he told me that all he could say was that the reason they were in Alaska in the first place was because the cold weather helped the computers on the third level run faster and that he would have to leave it at that.

About a week later the base seemed to be more frantic then ever before. People were full on sprinting trying to get from one place to another. I managed to run into my friend again and he told me that the big experiment would start tomorrow and that all the scientists were invited to watch it. I asked him if he could tell me more about it and he got nervous again. Eventually he looked around, saw that we were alone, and told me that if I met him at that spot the next day he could sneak me in to see it myself. My curiosity getting the better of me, and I agreed.

The next day my friend met up with me and we walked together to the elevator and went up to the third level. I expected there to be a big security detail but it seemed that everyone at the base was crowded together in a large lab that made up most of the level. Me and my buddy walked in and stood off to the side.

In the center of the lab, a balding scientist with a graying beard greeted everyone and asked for them all to join him in celebrating the end of a project that had taken them all many years to get off the ground. He walked over to a large black box with a keyboard and mouse connected to the side of it. The scientist typed in a few commands and suddenly a loud beep silenced the murmuring crowd. A voice came out of a speaker attached to the box:

“Hello, my name is Dr. Johannes Ruis, how may I help you?”

As the voice faded the entire crowd slowly bursted into applause. The scientist seemed to bask in the ovation for a second before returning to the computer. He greeted the program and told him his name, Dr. Peterson, and asked the computer to tell everyone “What your PhD work was?” The computer replied and gave a long and technical description of things that obviously flew over my head but as I looked around I saw that the entire crowd was in awe. After the computer finished Dr. Peterson turned to the crowd:

“As you can see, the computer has a perfect image of Dr. Ruis, right down to intimate knowledge of his life’s work,”

The computer chimed in, “Speaking of Dr. Ruis, Dr. Peterson, could I speak with Ruis? I’ve always wanted to have a conversation with myself,”

A couple people in the audience chuckled and Dr. Peterson calmly responded, “Sorry Dr. Ruis, but Dr. Ruis is not available at the moment,”

“Oh?” the computer replied, “I would have thought he’d be here to see the project come to fruition, is he still recovering from the procedure?”

Peterson’s face grew grim, “There were… complications to the procedure,”

“Complications?”

“Yes… Ruis didn’t make it,”

“Didn’t make it!? You told me it would be perfectly safe, you told me you had it all figured out”

“It turned out we needed more gray matter then anticipated,”

“And you didn’t consult me? What about my wife? My kids?”

The audience started to grow weary and agitated, people started shuffling in place.

“How could you!? After all these years, you were my best friend!” The computer started to shout through the speakers.

“Dr. Jones, I need a full system reboot” Peterson shouted,

“Damn you Peterson, Damn y-” The lights on the computer suddenly shut off. As the lights slowly turned back on I felt someone tapping my shoulder, I turned around to see two security officers ready to take me away. I guess I was caught. As I was escorted away I could hear Dr. Peterson clacking away at the keyboard. Right before I was pushed into the elevator I heard a loud beep and a voice:

“Hello, my name is Dr. Johannes Ruis, how may I help you?”

I Met An Evil Spirit On My Family's Farm Ten Years Ago

My family has owned our farm for over a hundred years, ever since the end of the first world war. When my great grandfather bought this land it was wild and untamed, but after lots of hard work and blood, sweat, and tears, he was able to mold the land into something that could provide for him and his family. However, there was one exception to that rule, a field that my great grandfather abandoned long, long, ago. Over the years the abandoned field was eventually reclaimed by nature and by the time I was born it had grown into a patch of woods. When I was a kid I would always ask my dad and my grandpa why we had the woods and all they’d say in response was a cryptic “the land was no good”.

So, this story took place when I was 17. I had my girlfriend over and we were walking around the farm when she asked me about the woods. I gave her the same excuse the other men in the family had given me but when I told her that the land was no good she just smirked:

“The woods scare you, don’t they?”

“What? No, I’m not scared of some stupid woods,” I laughed a little nervously,

“Sure,” she rolled her eyes a little, “I bet you couldn’t walk through them you little scaredypants,”

I laughed, “Yeah, what would you do if I did,”

“Anything you want Jamie,” she flashed a cheeky grin and before I knew it, I was walking through the woods.

Now, obviously, the woods were more then a little unnerving, when you spend your whole childhood afraid of something its going to creep you out whether its actually scary or not. However, being the bold, and horny, teenage boy I was, I continued on. After a little bit I started to relax, it was just a patch of woods after all, and the tall trees almost seemed to provide me with a sense of security. Which is probably why I was so unsettled when they went away.

I had come across a small clearing and it bothered me from the start. Whereas the rest of the forest was full of the ambient noise of nature and wildlife there seemed to be no sound at all in this clearing. Even the wind had died down. As I walked into the center of the clearing I heard the sound of a woman sobbing. I called out to my gf, “Jen?” but there was no response.

Thinking it was just my mind playing tricks on me I continued towards the other end of the clearing. The whole time the sobbing was getting louder and louder, though still quiet and restrained. When I got to the end of the clearing I noticed a tree that looked a little off. I went up and examined it and saw that it had grown around something in the ground. At first, I thought it was a chunk of fence or something but the more I looked at it I realized that it was a cross.

I turned around only to find myself face to face with a young woman. Her teary eyes looked me up and down and she started crying again, “I… I’m sorry I failed you John, I’m sorry I’m broken.”

I didn’t know what to do, why was this lady in the woods? At the same time she seemed to be in a really rough place. I put my arms around her and told her that she hadn’t failed anyone. “You don’t mind if I’m broken?” “Of course not” I said, still not sure what was going on. She gripped me tight, “liar” she whispered into my ear as she disappeared.

I looked around, trying to figure out what happened. Regardless, I had had enough of the woods and I quickly sprinted out and went back to my house where my girlfriend immediately yelled at me. You see, the woods isn’t all that big, and any average person should be able to cross it in about half an hour at most. Apparently, I had been gone for nearly three times that and my girlfriend was convinced that I was trying to scare her. My dad came into the room and asked why I was out for so long and I explained what happened to them both.

My dad turned pale and motioned us to join him in the attic. There he pulled out an old photo album and asked me if the photos were of the girl I saw. When I told him that they were he told me the real reason why they let the field grow over. My great grandfather’s first wife was infertile, and while great grandpa never thought of leaving her, she wasn’t able to handle the thought of not having kids. Obviously at that time having children was extremely important for taking care of the farm and ensuring that people had care in their old age. As a result, the guilt of not being able to have kids put her in a great depression that ultimately led to her killing herself in that field.

At first my great grandfather kept farming the field, having her buried at the nearby church. But he quickly found that whenever he worked that field things would go wrong. Equipment would break, horses would refuse to enter, crops would die for seemingly no reason. Eventually he came to the conclusion that his wife would not let him have the field and thus he placed a memorial cross where she had killed herself and left the field for nature, and her, to reclaim.

Now obviously that creeped me right out, but over the years I moved on and tried to put it out of my mind. The reason that I’m thinking about it again, and why I’m posting it here happened about a week ago. Me and Jen stayed together and now we’re husband and wife, and for the past two years we’ve been trying to start a family. Last week the doctor told us that I was completely infertile.

My Halloween VR Experience

So this happened a couple of years ago when I was 18. I had just finished high school and was only working part time so I had tons of free time, and most of it was spent with my girlfriend. When Halloween came we made plans to attend a friends party but that fell apart in a big way (long story) and so we decided to have some fun and seek out some haunted houses. We live in one of the biggest cities in the Midwest so there was a lot to choose from.

Most of the places we visited were pretty cheesy. Some guy in a bedsheet jumping out and yelling “Boo!” the occasional plastic spider, you know the stuff. But then we came to one that was really something else.

It was a fairly small booth set up down a busy pedestrian street and was marketing some sort of tech company, Virtua something maybe? I don’t know, I had never heard of it before and I didn’t really bother trying to remember it. Besides, it wasn’t the company that was supposed to draw your attention, it was the sign, which read “Experience Pure Horror in VR.”

Now I always thought VR was cool, but being a broke teenager I never actually had the chance to use it, so I was pretty excited. My gf felt differently, normally she was a huge horror junkie but this time she seemed spooked. I asked her what was up and she said that it just felt “off” to her. I shrugged my shoulders, told her to wait for me to come back and I stepped into the booth.

Inside the booth an, admittedly quite attractive, lady directed me to a chair and placed a VR headset on me. She asked me if I was ready and when I said yes the screen turned on and I immediately found myself in the most immersive virtual world I had ever been in. The graphics were amazing, not quite photorealistic, but the total immersion of VR made that irrelevant, I felt like I was really in that world.

Within the simulation I was strapped to a railcar. There was no real way to move, but I could rotate my head and look around me. As the railcar started I was brought through an amusement park-esque haunted house experience. At first it was really tame, and thus kinda lame. Lots of ghosts and vampires and other basic stuff, though the sheer immersion did make it a bit more interesting then a regular haunted house.

Now, the whole experience was mostly like that, just generic Halloween monsters and jump scares, but what really sold the experience was the narration. The narrator had a soft but confident voice, it really reminded of a college professor. In fact, what he was talking about was kind of like a lecture too, as he kept going on and on about the inevitably of death, man’s irrelevance to nature and how God didn’t exist.

As the ride went on and the voice kept talking in my ear I found myself getting more and more scared. Not at any one thing but just the way that the narrator would distract me just enough for the monsters to take me by surprise. And then, when I was used to the monsters, the narrator would come back into focus and remind me of the emptiness of existence.

As the narration went on things started to get more personal. He started to shift focus away from God and nihilism and onto my family and my loved ones. He started asking me if I loved my girlfriend more for her personality or for her body. He asked me if I thought my parents were happy that I was born. As he was saying these things the monsters jumping out started to change. Instead of zombies and vampires it was my father covered in blood, my mom with her wrists slit, my girlfriend with half her face blown off.

At one point the monster that jumped out was me, at the age of 14. He was holding a gun and the narrator asked me if I was truly happy that I hadn’t killed myself. I don’t even know how he could’ve known about that.

Eventually the ride came to an end. The railcar stopped and a hooded man appeared. He spoke to me and I realized he was the narrator. He said that though my journey was at an end, he was going to leave me with something that would make me remember it for the rest of my life. Then he pulled out a knife and ran it across my forehead.

The screen went black and the headset was lifted off me by the attractive assistant. I thanked her and walked outside to meet my girlfriend. I told her all about the experience and how immersive it was and what she had to say once I was done will stick with me forever. She pointed at my forehead and said: “how did you get that cut?”

I'm Studying to be an Archeologist, But This Old Forum Post is Making me Reconsider

Hello everyone, I think I have a mystery here that I was wondering if you could help me with. There’s this anthropology forum I frequent (I’m a grad student) and one day while I was looking through some old posts I found this series of posts from this one account, Arkygirl286. If you know anything about this cave or even know the girl let me know:

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2017-02-28 Arkygirl286 wrote:

Hey guys, I’m posting here cause I need your help finding out some stuff related to a professor of mine. His name is Steve Hartford and I think its safe to say that he’s everyone’s favourite professor. He teaches Anthropology here in Idaho and has always poured his heart and soul into it. I’ve taken three classes with him and each one has been a blast. However, things have been strange with him lately and I need some help figuring out what’s up.

Basically, the semester started and everything seemed normal. Steve’s class didn’t have any pre-reqs so there were a lot of freshman. Normally I find freshman to be a little disruptive, just because they don’t really “get” how to act in a college class yet, you know? But this batch was actually really cool, and you could tell that they were all really into the subject matter and super curious.

So anyway, Steve was up lecturing one day and he was talking about early examples of art in the Americas. He mentioned that talking about stuff like this always reminded him of his research back in grad school. After he said that one of the freshman raised her hand and innocently asked what exactly his old research was about. That was when things got weird. Normally Steve always answers questions, he’s not shy, and he’s never been afraid to discuss his other research, but this time he just got real quiet, and you could feel the mood of the room suddenly drop. Kind of quietly he murmured, “That… that would take too much time to explain…” Then he went back to lecturing, however, it was pretty clear that his heart wasn’t in it after the question. When class ended, instead of staying and talking to students like normal, he instead quickly packed up his stuff and rushed out as fast as he could, despite the limp he has.

We didn’t have class with him the next day, but the day after he came in looking different from normal. He seemed less energetic and more reserved, and the limp that he always had seemed even worse. He cleared his throat to start the class but instead of hopping into lecture like normal, he said he was going to do something different. He explained that he was thinking about the question from the other day and realized that it was unfair of him to skip over it, and, given the nature of the topic we were learning about, it actually made a lot of sense to go over his old research.

He explained that him and his phd advisor did extensive research on a place called Blackcom cave in Utah. He said that they were interested in it due to the cave paintings inside, which were well known among local Native American tribes, but had never been properly researched. After going over the backstory of the site, Steve then showed us a bunch of the paintings they found. Most of them were pretty basic, people, hands, buffalo, all the things you would expect. Then he started talking about one he didn’t have a picture of, apparently none of the photos he took of it developed. He drew it up on the board for us all to look at and then stood back and stared at it himself.

Suddenly he went completely silent and so did the class. The drawing was of some sort of figure, with a black head and long appendages, a black sun was in the sky, and there were weird shapes beneath it. Steve just stared at the drawing for five entire minutes before he collapsed onto the ground. The whole class panicked but eventually one of the nurses from the college medical center was called and she came and helped him out of the classroom.

From what I’ve heard since Steve is alright, but due to his health he has elected to take the rest of the semester off and we’ll be getting a new prof soon. However, this is all freaking me out a bit, I need to know more. Have any of you guys heard of Blackcom cave? Or about any weird cave paintings? Maybe with some help I can figure out what’s going on with my professor.

Update: I showed a classmate of mine this post and he sent me the drawing he did of the painting in his notes (here)

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2017-03-03 Arkygirl286 wrote:

Hey guys, thanks for all your help the past few days, one of you messaged me this link to a blogpost about the cave, it was really interesting to read. If any of you guys have anything else please, please, send it my way.

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She included a link to an old blog, here’s the text from it

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Aug. 15, 2009 Sorry about the lack of updates, I know I said I’d tell all of you about my latest spelunking adventure but, man, it was wild. Now that I have my thoughts settled let’s get into it!

The place I went to was called Thompson cave, its on Indian land in Utah, not far from SLC so it wasn’t too bad of a drive. There’s a little hamlet right by the cave, close enough you can see some of the houses when you park there. I say park, but its more like you pull of the road onto the grassy clearing. When I got out of my car, I noticed the sign in front of the cave said Blackcom cave, maybe that’s a different name for it? Idk, anyway I was just getting ready to enter the cave when I noticed something weird. I looked back at the houses in the hamlet and it almost seemed like someone from there was watching me, intensely. I shrugged it off and walked into the cave.

Pretty much from the moment I walked in I needed my flashlight on. It was crazy how dark it was. Fortunately, it was a very straight path so I never felt like I was at risk of getting lost. I was pretty deep in the cave when I noticed something cool, there were cave paintings on the walls! I looked at them and saw some buffalo and a couple handprints. I walked a bit further but saw that part of the cave collapsed. I went to turn around and nearly tripped over a rock.

I picked it up and shined my flashlight on it. It was all black and shiny. I went to put it in my pocket when suddenly it felt like my hand was burning. Like really burning. I went to put the rock down but my hand didn’t want to move, and neither did the rest of my body. It felt like my hand was melting and yet I was stuck there unable to move.

Suddenly a voice called out, “Are you okay?” I looked up and saw an Indian man who grabbed me by the arm. As soon as he grabbed me the rock fell out of my hand and I was able to move. He helped me out to the caves entrance and then looked me over. He gestured at my hand and I looked down to see a thin, bleeding, cut.

“Obsidian’s sharp,” he told me, “You have to be careful when you pick it up,”

“That’s what happened,” I said, then I explained to him that I picked up the rock and must have been so surprised that I cut myself that my imagination ran wild and it felt like I couldn’t move. The Indian man just looked really uncomfortable and told me that I shouldn’t come around to this cave again, that it was sacred land not to be touched.

I apologized for trespassing and thanked the man for his help. I went home that night and tried to wrap my head around what happened. I guess the thing that’s been really bothering me, and the reason why I haven’t posted about it yet is that, despite the fact that I’m not a hemophiliac or anything, it took three days for that cut to stop bleeding.

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2017-03-05 Arkygirl286 wrote: Great news guys! After I posted that blog post someone was able to message me a journal article dealing with the cave. It looks like it was written by my prof’s advisor! It’s a great read so I don’t know if it breaks any of the rules but here’s a link to it:

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So, this article is pretty long and kinda dry, as you might expect, so rather then post all of it I cut it down to the most important parts.

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Lost Indigenous Art and Curse Mythology, Examining the Mystery of Thompson/Blackcom Cave

Dr. Stanley Anderson

Many Native American societies have been lost to the sands of time. Most vanish without much of a trace, save for mentions in the local folklore of nearby tribes. A curious exception to this rule is the Malakitic tribe in what is now Utah. Seemingly a once thriving society they were steadily dwindled by old world disease until only a few remaining members were left to greet Indigenous tribes fleeing American expansion in the 19th century. From oral stories from these tribes we can gather that the Malakitic were extremely isolationist and refused to interact with the other tribes, leading to a death by extinction as opposed to assimilation. We also know that their society largely revolved around a cave through which all their religious practices were associated with.

…Named Thompson cave by Mormon settlers locals in the surrounding area have always referred to it as Blackcom cave. The name derives from the term comme the one lasting legacy of the Malakitic language. The term refers to the obsidian blades that litter the cave. Seemingly these blades served a religious function for the tribe.

…Local contemporary native tribes refuse to go near the cave, simultaneously describing the land as “sacred’ and “cursed” in the same breath, the seeming contradiction unable to be resolved giving the tribes are extremely closed off about the subject.

…The first white explorers of the cave noted numerous detailed cave paintings. Many of these paintings were standard fare, though it was noted that they seemed to get more detailed the deeper one went into the cave. However, many of these same explorers curiously stated that they had no desire to explore the caves depths and cautioned others from exploring the caves at all.

…Me and one of my graduate students set out to fully map out the cave paintings within. While the local Indigenous groups told us not to enter, they ultimately agreed to give us permission. Once inside we found paintings of various typical things, such as buffalo and hand prints. As the old reports stated the deeper we got into the cave the more realistic the images became, showing an exceptional artistry for the time period. The deeper we got into the cave the more I felt a sense of unease, perhaps I was simply unnerved by the explorers’ accounts. My grad student, Steve, was willing to go deeper in then me.

…Our expedition was cut short when the cave began to collapse. Steve rushed out but one of his legs was caught and broken in the rubble.

…He would only describe it to me after we had left Utah but what he told me was remarkable. The image seemed to depict some sort of figure, perhaps a Malakitic god standing beneath a black sun, while figures were positioned below him. Without further knowledge of Malakitic iconography it is hard to determine what the figures were, I interpreted them to be worshippers prostrating whereas Steve seems to be convinced that they are, in fact, corpses.

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2017-03-14 Arkygirl286 wrote:

Hey guys, sorry for the gap between posts. As some of you guys suggested after the last post, I brought all the information together and emailed my professor. It took him a long time to reply but when he did he asked for us to meet up to discuss my findings.

When I saw him I almost gasped as he looked really unwell, like he hadn’t ate or slept in days. He commended me on my research and said that I was probably the best student he ever had, which I have to admit, was pretty flattering. He also told me that ever since the lecture he gave he couldn’t stop thinking about that cave painting. Deep down he knew that he had to see it again, that he had to go back to that cave again. When I told him that I wanted to see it too he was taken aback but quickly became enthusiastic. There’s a long weekend coming up and he told me that by then he should be in better health and that the two of us could go together.

Now I know some of you might think its weird, but I’m actually really excited right now. I’ve been fascinated with this cave and what might be inside it for nearly a month, its all I’ve been thinking about. And getting to see it with my favourite prof? Oh man, this is gonna be so cool!

So, I guess this is it for the moment, as soon as I get back from the trip I’ll let you guys know how it went, wish me luck!

Arkygirl286

Last online: 2017-03-14

Whenever People Share Their Paranormal Experiences I Always Win

So this happened back when I was in high school. I had just left my boyfriend’s house and was going to walk home. It wasn’t too far away and it was only 1 in the afternoon. Despite being a very petite 16 year old girl I didn’t see any reason to be on guard. Though I should have been.

As I was walking down the street I started to hear footsteps behind me. Kinda slow and shuffling. I glanced behind me and saw a middle-aged man going the same direction as me. He looked gruff, with lots of stubble on his face, and he was wearing a stained white shirt, black pants, and heavy work boots. At first I didn’t think too much of it, it was probably just a guy heading back to work from his lunch. This wasn’t too far from the industrial part of town after all. However, as I rounded a couple of corners, I looked back again to see that he was still there. That was when I started to get a little freaked. My house was getting close but I figured it’d be better to just keep walking so that this guy didn’t know where I lived.

As I got to the intersection past my house, I bumped into someone. As I looked up, I gasped as I realized it was the same person who was following me. Not similar, the same person, right down to the stains on his shirt. He didn’t grab me or anything, he just glared, in that “why can’t kids look where they’re going?” kind of way. I awkwardly apologized and quickly crossed the street. I glanced behind me and the man was still standing, perfectly still, staring right at me, while, at the same time, the same man was still following me a bit further back.

I started walking faster. At the next intersection was the same man again, this time on both sides of the intersection, both glaring at me, while the man from earlier kept following me. I kept moving down the street and saw more and more of this same man all around me. Standing on the sidewalk, glaring at me from windows, stepping out of houses and leaning on balconies. Everywhere I looked I saw this man, all the while he continued to trail me from behind. Each time I looked at a new one of him he seemed angrier and angrier.

I started to run, but as I ran, I started to hear more footsteps. I looked behind me and screamed. All of them were following me now. I was sprinting as fast as I could, yet this army of doppelgangers was matching my speed walking.

I stopped at a fork in the street. The doppelgangers were behind me, they were to my left, and they were to my right. I had nowhere to go. I looked at the building I was in front of, it was the old Catholic church. I rushed to the doors but they were locked. I cursed and looked around; they were getting dangerously close. My eyes frantically darted around looking for an escape when I noticed a small trail to the side of the church. That was my only option.

I booked it down the path only to come to a statue of the Virgin Mary and heavy forest surrounding every other direction. I had ran to the church’s shrine and now I was stuck at a dead end. I turned to face my stalkers and watched as they steadily walked towards me.

However, as soon as they got to the gates of the shrine they disappeared. One by one they would enter the shrine only to vanish in a puff of smoke. I stood there in shock as the sea of doppelgangers vanished. Until finally, the last one, the first one, made his slow shuffling march into oblivion. I stood there for a while, shocked at what had happened and then ran home as fast as I could.

It’s been 20 years since that happened and now I’m married with two kids. I’ve never had anything like that happen to me since, but now I always make sure my family goes to church every Sunday.

Never Donate Your Kidney

So, this all happened about five years ago. I had just turned 21 and my life was admittedly a mess. The night of my birthday I went out and got absolutely hammered, and my wasted ass decided it would be a great idea to cheat on my gf with her best friend. Once word of what I did went back to her she dumped me and kicked me out of our apartment. On top of that she took most of our friends with her. So, there I was, alone for the first time since junior high, living out of my car, and feeling like a piece of shit. Probably because I was a piece of shit. Which is maybe why I noticed the sign on that truck.

It was printed on the back window and I must have seen it a million times as I came into work but this was the first time I really looked at it. It read: Help Need Kidney, Type O; and then some contact info. Now I’m not all that spiritual or anything but I realized as I read that sign that I had built up some seriously bad karma and given that I have type O blood, maybe now was the time to do something good for once.

So, I gave the phone number a call, worst case scenario I’d change my mind and just pretend like my doctor told me I couldn’t do it or something. On the other end was a very bubbly woman who seemed overjoyed that I had phoned. She explained that her husband desperately needed a transplant and that they had been trying to find a donor for months. Them and their two kids had been praying for someone like me to call. She even said that they had set aside $2000 for whoever was able to donate. All this made me feel great, I was helping out a family and I was going to make some good money too, hopefully enough to move out of my car and put an actual roof over my head. We agreed to meet up at their house and get to know each other, she explained that the actual donation process is pretty long and obviously, giving up a kidney is a big commitment, so they wanted to make sure I was serious.

I put the address in my phone and that weekend I drove out to their place. They wanted us to meet up at seven and because it was late October that meant that it was getting pretty dark by the time I set out. Following my phones directions, I soon left the city and found myself down a series of winding country roads. By the time I reached their address it was pitch black out. I stepped out of my car and walked to the direction of their home, only to find an empty lot. I looked around, there wasn’t a house in miles. Maybe they gave me the wrong address? As I walked back to my car, I started to have an uneasy feeling, thinking that maybe this whole thing was more then I could handle. As I unlocked my car and stepped inside I decided that when I got back into the city I would give that bubbly woman a call and tell her I couldn’t go through with it. I sat down in the driver’s seat and adjusted my rearview mirror, only to catch the reflection of someone in my backseat. That’s the last thing I remember.

I woke up in a grimy motel bathroom, my body in absolute agony. My lower back radiated pain and I had a splitting headache. I checked myself in the cracked mirror, there was a large stitched up incision right where my kidney had been. I slowly walked into the motel room proper and found my clothes folded up with my car keys and envelope on top. I opened the envelope to find 2 grand in $100 bills and a note that simply read “Thanks, for everything”. Once I composed myself, I went out to my car and drove as far away from that city as I could.

Now I know that the first response to being abducted and getting your kidney stolen would be to go to the hospital or call the police but I was just so spooked and frankly embarrassed by the whole affair that I just did my best to pretend it never happened. Besides, they did pay me. Eventually I healed up and outside of the scar on my back I was more then happy to believe it was all a bad dream. At least until a couple days ago. You see, I’ve been starting to go bald and the other day I decided it was finally time to just shave it all off. When I looked in the mirror after all my hair was gone, I noticed something. A second scar across the entirety of my scalp. I stared at it for what seemed like an hour, a terrifying question eating at my very soul: what else did they take?

The Girl Of My Dreams Started Living With Me And Now I Don't Know What To Do [Part 3]

Hey guys, this will be my final update on the whole doppelganger gf situation. The short story is that me and her are good, everything is going well, and I was just overreacting. She loves me, and I love her.

Now for the longer story, when I last updated you guys it was after I found out that the “real” Sarah had gone missing in Mexico despite the fact that Sarah was sleeping beside me. For the next few days, I was in a slump, I didn’t know what to do and I wasn’t sure how to proceed with Sarah. She picked up on that and asked me if I was alright but I just kept saying that I was feeling a little under the weather and needed a bit of space until I recovered. Fortunately, she bought that and I had some time to figure out my next move.

I posted my update on Reddit while she was at work and that night when she fell asleep, I scrolled through the replies and one caught my eye. It said that I should check out her family, and if they thought it was Sarah then I would know for sure who was real and who was fake. I thought that was a great idea and kept it in my mind as I fell asleep.

The next day was pretty normal until supper, at which point things started to feel even more tense then they had been. We ate in silence until Sarah suddenly took a deep breath and looked up at me:

“Corey, I think we really need to talk,”

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything Corey, we’ve barely talked the last little bit, I know you haven’t been feeling well but I’m really starting to think that you just don’t want to be with me. You know you can tell me if you’re not feeling this, it’ll hurt but you can tell me.” Her voice cracked a little while she said this and it made my heart sink,

“Sarah, no, it’s not like that, I want to be with you, its all I’ve wanted for a long time,”

“Then why are you acting like this? Why are you so distant?”

“Look…” I sighed, “obviously I haven’t been feeling well, and that’s part of it. This has all happened so quickly too, I guess its just caught me off guard. But trust me, I do want this,”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Then SHOW me,” her voice cracked again, “I need to know for sure that this is what you want,”

Suddenly things clicked in my head, “Here… I’m starting to feel a little better, how about this weekend we go out and you can introduce me to your parents,”

“You want to meet my parents?” She perked up a bit,

“Yeah, I mean they might very well be my in-laws,” I smiled,

Sarah walked up and hugged me, squeezing me tightly, “Thank you Corey, I’m sorry I was doubting you,”

“I’m sorry too,”

“You know…” she smirked a little, “isn’t it a little weird to meet my parents before we’ve even had sex?”

I gulped a little, “I’m just a traditional guy I guess,”

Sarah frowned a bit and sat back down to finish her meal. However, after dinner she got more excited and set things up with her parents. That night I had trouble sleeping, she didn’t seem to be defensive about her family, in fact she seemed enthusiastic. If she wasn’t the real Sarah then wouldn’t she be scared of me meeting her folks and the ruse unravelling?

Soon the day came and the two of us drove together out of the city and out onto her parent’s farm. The drive was about an hour long and, despite my anxiety, really felt normal. Me and her laughed and joked around like we always used to, back before any of this happened. At one point, when the conversation lulled a bit, she looked at me with a soft smile and said “I can’t wait for you to meet my parents…” and despite being on guard I have to admit that my heart melted.

The two of us walked up to her parent’s place and they welcomed us both with open arms. That night we all sat around and got to know each other, had a delicious dinner, and shared some drinks. Her parents mentioned that Sarah had talked about me lots before, and that they were happy she had moved on from her ex-fiancé, who they said they didn’t like at all. The thing that struck me about the visit was how normal it was, there was no sign anything was up, and it completely allayed my fears about Sarah.

While we drove home that night Sarah was extremely happy and affectionate. She rubbed my thigh while we made our way down the highway and flashed her little grin again:

“So… now that you’ve met my parents, what do you want to do when we get home?”

I looked over at her. She looked amazing in her outfit and after all that I had seen with her work and her family I was convinced that this was the Sarah I had been pining over for all these years.

“Something we should’ve done a long time ago,”

As we got back into our house, she was all over me, kissing me passionately. We quickly made it to our room and she started taking off her clothes and urged me to do the same. She crawled into the bed and beckoned me to join her. As I went to embrace her, I noticed that her phone was sitting on the nightstand and that it had lit up. There was a text message from her father that read something like “we were so sure we had lost you,” but by that point I was barely paying attention.

After the deed was done, I looked over at Sarah and realized just how much I loved her. All shred of doubt and worry was gone, replaced with a deep affection that permeated my entire being. It wasn’t that she was mine, but I was hers. At that moment I knew that I was going to spend the rest of my life with her, giving her everything she desired. I laid back down on the bed and glanced back to the nightstand. Sarah’s phone had lit up again, this time for a news alert, apparently in Cancun they had just discovered a body, mutilated and disfigured beyond any recognition.