Sup, anon. I’m writing you from the bottomless depths of the Darknet. You know what I mean, right? Or are you a noob? ’Cause I don’t have any respect for noobs. Fine, if you’re a noob, I’ll spell it out. The Darknet is this hidden segment of the Internet you can only enter through Tor. If you’re like the people around me (sheep), you probably think the World Wide Web is a kind, friendly place where you can’t troll and only mind-friendly info gets posted. And honestly, you’re not even that far off… What you’re used to calling the Internet is basically a sandbox for kids and suckers. To see its real face you can’t be afraid to dive deeper… Anyway, the Deep Web (another name for the Darknet) is where everything ends up that Google’s moderators didn’t let into the surface, sucker Internet… There’s no place for kiddies there…
Take it from an experienced decker, anon: on the regular Internet, 4chan is considered a spot for the cool and dangerous. But on Darknet 4chan there are like four people, and they’re schoolkids. I told one of them I’d beat him up, and he started apologizing and called me Daddy. So believe me, sitting on 4chan in the Bright Internet by comparison isn’t dangerous at all, and even Dark 4chan isn’t as dangerous as a lot of other things there. The Deep Web is hell on the Internet.
But for some, that hellish little place can become home. I’m one of those dark Surfers who crossed the line and ended up in the unmoderated, hidden, danger-packed Darknet.
It all started when I mined myself three and a half thousand bitcoins on my computer. It’s this untraceable currency you can pay with if, say, you want to make a payment anonymously or buy something illegal.
At first I was thrilled with my achievement. I yelled out loud: “AAAAA” and told my girlfriend to fuck off over text, because she wouldn’t give it up in the ass and wouldn’t take it in the mouth and wouldn’t even fap me but she did make me lick her, and even then not directly, but through plastic wrap, cuz she was afraid she’d catch thrush from my unclean mouth. I wrote to her that I’m a millionaire now and I don’t need the company of unwashed peasant girls, mothers of donkeys, like her.
Only later, when the euphoria wore off, did I realize that Bitcoin is fucking useless to anyone in the Bright Internet, basically worth nothing there and there’s a ton of hassle screwing with it. The only place you can actually use it is the Darknet. Back then I’d heard a lot about the Darknet, but I’d never risked going in. I’d heard from other deckers there are viruses there that make the usual viruses shrivel up in fear. Like there was this one that can infect your computer and, if you’ve got a webcam, the hacker can peep on you through it. And there’s also this virus called “Apocalipto” that scans your rig and if it figures out you’re a kike, a black-ass or a chick, it nukes you. They say Hitlerites wrote it, but I don’t believe it, sounds like some basic skinhead.
I shut down my PC, hooked into the neighbor’s Wi-Fi with a special neetbook and went into Tor.
The computer crackled: Launching Darknet… Attention… Launching Darknet…
I waited out the loading, ready to hit the X at any moment if, say, a virus or a trojan showed up, to close the Darknet before anything transferred over. But nothing like that happened. Only about two viruses tried to mess with me, and my AVG Security cut off their illegal activity. I went to a site that listed encrypted access codes to other sites. And I immediately opened my Bitcoin wallet to keep it at the ready.
Well then. Despite all the Deep Web stories I watched on YouTube, with scary ghosts and monsters - in reality it turned out to be a very interesting place… Interesting if you’re as fucked in the head as I am. If at school no one shakes your hand even when you stick it out first and they call you “a lost cause”…
I blew my first hundred Bitcoins on a site that sold weed from Snoop Dogg’s stash. It was elite kush at a hundred bucks an ounce. I ordered myself one ounce.
Then I dropped a decent wad on a site that sold snuff flicks. I liked one called “Toilet Mermaid.” Some dude on camera tortures and dismembers a real mermaid, and the footage is totally real—no special effects. I was floored by it. We know way too little about how the world really works, anons… And maybe that’s for the best. For another 75 bucks I bought a snuff film called “Faces of Death,” with lots of “interesting” tortures and executions. Then I watched some porn. I really wanted to find [redacted], but it was way too pricey, so for 20 coins I just watched a short clip with an adult chick and two n*****s going at it.
I also checked out sites that sold weapons, but I chickened out. Got spooked—what if my mom or my kid brother were the ones checking the mail that day, found the gun I’d ordered, and accidentally shot themselves.
Finally I landed on a weird webcam show where a huge, tuft-haired fat guy with the handle Longpig, looked about fifty, would do whatever the chat ordered for a bitcoin a pop. While I was there he slapped his own butt calling himself a zebra, recited a poem in broken English about a pig, stuck a straw in his urethra and pretended to drink water through it, then did a barrel roll. I asked him, for 1 bitcoin, to smear lipstick around his tender little nipples and tweak them, moaning like he was getting turned on. It was hilarious when that fg did the request without even flinching. Then I decided to crank up his humiliation and demanded, for another bitcoin, that he whip out his tiny dick and touch the tip to the camera lens. When that shady dude obeyed, I quickly dropped my jeans and my tighty-whities and touched my tip to the monitor too. It looked like me and the online fg were touching tips. Once I’d, uh, recovered, I typed in chat: “Loser, I just touched the monitor with my dick so your dick touched my dick, you homo-ape.” Yeah. The Darknet is a place for terrifying things… and for absolutely hopeless individuals.
The last page I opened looked a bit different from the others… The site’s simple logo read: “Daagmar & Puppele — Finno-Ugric Detective Agency.”
I thought, what are detectives, those chained hounds of law and “justice” and all that crap I hate as a hacker, doing in a den of thieves and deckers with the darkest minds?
The answer turned out simple. According to the “About Us” page, these two Finno-Ugric sleuths, Daagmar and Puppele, would take any job… from blackmail and racketeering to kidnapping. I was already thinking of leaving their site. One reason I’d been so successful as a hacker and trader was that I had no secrets that needed investigating… Except maybe one…
This will seem funny to you, anon. But all my life, ever since I watched the movie “Mio, My Mio,” I was sure… no, convinced… that my batya isn’t my real batya. Mamka just lies to me to keep the family glued together. In reality my real father either left or died, and this bald, boozy counterfeit—so sure he can teach me how to live and tell me when I have to go to bed—is just a charade. A fiction. Sadly, even after hacking the Omsk Social Security, I couldn’t learn the truth. But maybe this was one of those things the cynical detectives could help with?..
Swallowing a lump of thickened spit, I transferred 200 bitcoins to the detectives’ anonymous account. In the simple little order form I typed my personal data, bank account, password, and the request: “I want to know who my real father is.” After thinking one more time if I was doing the right thing, I hit the green “OK” button… The site didn’t react. I thought I’d misclicked, when I noticed down in the browser—“loading page.” I decided to wait, knowing Tor’s connection quality. But even after five minutes nothing loaded. And my order form kept hanging there in a kind of limbo.
“Work, damn it, work!” I shouted, click-mashing my mouse till my hands cramped. Then the detectives’ site flickered… and shut off. And I got dumped back to the previous page I’d been on—the one with the f*g doing whatever the cackling crowd requested…
“Went into #DeepWeb, got scammed by charlatans,” I tweeted to my popular microblog in frustration. But suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something that made me look up from my phone… The tuft-haired fatty had stopped fulfilling the anons’ requests… He was just staring blankly into the camera… He was looking through the monitor straight at me.
I whipped around to the screen, unable to say anything, paralyzed with fear…
“Son… So that’s what you look like… My own dear son…” the pervert muttered, staring straight into my soul through the screen.
“NO!” I screamed, shoving the monitor away from me so hard it slid two or three centimeters across the desk.
“Not no, but yes… That’s right, son… Come to daddy…”
“NO! NO! NO! My batya isn’t a fg! Not a fg!! No!!!” I shrieked, tumbling off the chair and crawling across the floor. A weird crackle drew my attention. A fat hand, sloppily painted with red polish, grabbed his webcam and seemed to reach after me, coming through the monitor screen…
“Fk! Holy fk! NO! NO! NO! NO!!!” I screamed, scrambling away as far as I could. Then a stray thought shot through my head: daddy! Daddy's home! Finding a second wind, I bolted as hard as I could to the bedroom, where the man considered my real daddy was resting after work… I flung the door open… and slid down the doorframe to the floor…
My daddy was standing in front of his PC completely naked, made up, wearing a wig with a greasy forelock, and was pushing his hand into his webcam… Turns out… he was the star of that show…
“Oh, crap!” he yelped when he saw me burst into the room, and tried to throw a sheet over himself. “What the hell’s wrong with you? You gotta knock, fuck!”
“Daddy, what the hell are you doing?!” I yelled, eyes bulging.
“I…” Daddy blushed. “I’m working. By day I’m Jensey Slutslop, an ordinary law-abiding citizen, but by night I’m Longpig, a famous prostitute on the DarkNet”
“But that’s immoral!” I shouted, tears spraying from my eyes, melting the mascara and blush.
“Bitcoins don’t stink, son… And your new dendy doesn’t stink either… And I bought it with this very gig…”
“Xbox One! It’s called Xbox One! Learn it already! That… that’s why I hate you…” I squealed.
2 Name: Anonymous2025-11-11 19:44
you can take a dipshit normie out of the surface web. but you can't take the dipshit normie out of the dipshit normie.
one time i went on the "dark web" to find a cake recipe. it was fine.
Take it from an experienced decker, anon: on the regular Internet, 4chan is considered a spot for the cool and dangerous. But on Darknet 4chan there are like four people, and they’re schoolkids. I told one of them I’d beat him up, and he started apologizing and called me Daddy. So believe me, sitting on 4chan in the Bright Internet by comparison isn’t dangerous at all, and even Dark 4chan isn’t as dangerous as a lot of other things there. The Deep Web is hell on the Internet.
But for some, that hellish little place can become home. I’m one of those dark Surfers who crossed the line and ended up in the unmoderated, hidden, danger-packed Darknet.
It all started when I mined myself three and a half thousand bitcoins on my computer. It’s this untraceable currency you can pay with if, say, you want to make a payment anonymously or buy something illegal.
At first I was thrilled with my achievement. I yelled out loud: “AAAAA” and told my girlfriend to fuck off over text, because she wouldn’t give it up in the ass and wouldn’t take it in the mouth and wouldn’t even fap me but she did make me lick her, and even then not directly, but through plastic wrap, cuz she was afraid she’d catch thrush from my unclean mouth. I wrote to her that I’m a millionaire now and I don’t need the company of unwashed peasant girls, mothers of donkeys, like her.
Only later, when the euphoria wore off, did I realize that Bitcoin is fucking useless to anyone in the Bright Internet, basically worth nothing there and there’s a ton of hassle screwing with it. The only place you can actually use it is the Darknet. Back then I’d heard a lot about the Darknet, but I’d never risked going in. I’d heard from other deckers there are viruses there that make the usual viruses shrivel up in fear. Like there was this one that can infect your computer and, if you’ve got a webcam, the hacker can peep on you through it. And there’s also this virus called “Apocalipto” that scans your rig and if it figures out you’re a kike, a black-ass or a chick, it nukes you. They say Hitlerites wrote it, but I don’t believe it, sounds like some basic skinhead.
I shut down my PC, hooked into the neighbor’s Wi-Fi with a special neetbook and went into Tor.
The computer crackled: Launching Darknet… Attention… Launching Darknet…
I waited out the loading, ready to hit the X at any moment if, say, a virus or a trojan showed up, to close the Darknet before anything transferred over. But nothing like that happened. Only about two viruses tried to mess with me, and my AVG Security cut off their illegal activity. I went to a site that listed encrypted access codes to other sites. And I immediately opened my Bitcoin wallet to keep it at the ready.
Well then. Despite all the Deep Web stories I watched on YouTube, with scary ghosts and monsters - in reality it turned out to be a very interesting place… Interesting if you’re as fucked in the head as I am. If at school no one shakes your hand even when you stick it out first and they call you “a lost cause”…
I blew my first hundred Bitcoins on a site that sold weed from Snoop Dogg’s stash. It was elite kush at a hundred bucks an ounce. I ordered myself one ounce.
Then I dropped a decent wad on a site that sold snuff flicks. I liked one called “Toilet Mermaid.” Some dude on camera tortures and dismembers a real mermaid, and the footage is totally real—no special effects. I was floored by it. We know way too little about how the world really works, anons… And maybe that’s for the best. For another 75 bucks I bought a snuff film called “Faces of Death,” with lots of “interesting” tortures and executions. Then I watched some porn. I really wanted to find [redacted], but it was way too pricey, so for 20 coins I just watched a short clip with an adult chick and two n*****s going at it.
I also checked out sites that sold weapons, but I chickened out. Got spooked—what if my mom or my kid brother were the ones checking the mail that day, found the gun I’d ordered, and accidentally shot themselves.
Finally I landed on a weird webcam show where a huge, tuft-haired fat guy with the handle Longpig, looked about fifty, would do whatever the chat ordered for a bitcoin a pop. While I was there he slapped his own butt calling himself a zebra, recited a poem in broken English about a pig, stuck a straw in his urethra and pretended to drink water through it, then did a barrel roll. I asked him, for 1 bitcoin, to smear lipstick around his tender little nipples and tweak them, moaning like he was getting turned on. It was hilarious when that fg did the request without even flinching. Then I decided to crank up his humiliation and demanded, for another bitcoin, that he whip out his tiny dick and touch the tip to the camera lens. When that shady dude obeyed, I quickly dropped my jeans and my tighty-whities and touched my tip to the monitor too. It looked like me and the online fg were touching tips. Once I’d, uh, recovered, I typed in chat: “Loser, I just touched the monitor with my dick so your dick touched my dick, you homo-ape.” Yeah. The Darknet is a place for terrifying things… and for absolutely hopeless individuals.
The last page I opened looked a bit different from the others… The site’s simple logo read: “Daagmar & Puppele — Finno-Ugric Detective Agency.”
I thought, what are detectives, those chained hounds of law and “justice” and all that crap I hate as a hacker, doing in a den of thieves and deckers with the darkest minds?
The answer turned out simple. According to the “About Us” page, these two Finno-Ugric sleuths, Daagmar and Puppele, would take any job… from blackmail and racketeering to kidnapping. I was already thinking of leaving their site. One reason I’d been so successful as a hacker and trader was that I had no secrets that needed investigating… Except maybe one…
This will seem funny to you, anon. But all my life, ever since I watched the movie “Mio, My Mio,” I was sure… no, convinced… that my batya isn’t my real batya. Mamka just lies to me to keep the family glued together. In reality my real father either left or died, and this bald, boozy counterfeit—so sure he can teach me how to live and tell me when I have to go to bed—is just a charade. A fiction. Sadly, even after hacking the Omsk Social Security, I couldn’t learn the truth. But maybe this was one of those things the cynical detectives could help with?..
Swallowing a lump of thickened spit, I transferred 200 bitcoins to the detectives’ anonymous account. In the simple little order form I typed my personal data, bank account, password, and the request: “I want to know who my real father is.” After thinking one more time if I was doing the right thing, I hit the green “OK” button… The site didn’t react. I thought I’d misclicked, when I noticed down in the browser—“loading page.” I decided to wait, knowing Tor’s connection quality. But even after five minutes nothing loaded. And my order form kept hanging there in a kind of limbo.
“Work, damn it, work!” I shouted, click-mashing my mouse till my hands cramped. Then the detectives’ site flickered… and shut off. And I got dumped back to the previous page I’d been on—the one with the f*g doing whatever the cackling crowd requested…
“Went into #DeepWeb, got scammed by charlatans,” I tweeted to my popular microblog in frustration. But suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something that made me look up from my phone… The tuft-haired fatty had stopped fulfilling the anons’ requests… He was just staring blankly into the camera… He was looking through the monitor straight at me.
I whipped around to the screen, unable to say anything, paralyzed with fear…
“Son… So that’s what you look like… My own dear son…” the pervert muttered, staring straight into my soul through the screen.
“NO!” I screamed, shoving the monitor away from me so hard it slid two or three centimeters across the desk.
“Not no, but yes… That’s right, son… Come to daddy…”
“NO! NO! NO! My batya isn’t a fg! Not a fg!! No!!!” I shrieked, tumbling off the chair and crawling across the floor. A weird crackle drew my attention. A fat hand, sloppily painted with red polish, grabbed his webcam and seemed to reach after me, coming through the monitor screen…
“Fk! Holy fk! NO! NO! NO! NO!!!” I screamed, scrambling away as far as I could. Then a stray thought shot through my head: daddy! Daddy's home! Finding a second wind, I bolted as hard as I could to the bedroom, where the man considered my real daddy was resting after work… I flung the door open… and slid down the doorframe to the floor…
My daddy was standing in front of his PC completely naked, made up, wearing a wig with a greasy forelock, and was pushing his hand into his webcam… Turns out… he was the star of that show…
“Oh, crap!” he yelped when he saw me burst into the room, and tried to throw a sheet over himself. “What the hell’s wrong with you? You gotta knock, fuck!”
“Daddy, what the hell are you doing?!” I yelled, eyes bulging.
“I…” Daddy blushed. “I’m working. By day I’m Jensey Slutslop, an ordinary law-abiding citizen, but by night I’m Longpig, a famous prostitute on the DarkNet”
“But that’s immoral!” I shouted, tears spraying from my eyes, melting the mascara and blush.
“Bitcoins don’t stink, son… And your new dendy doesn’t stink either… And I bought it with this very gig…”
“Xbox One! It’s called Xbox One! Learn it already! That… that’s why I hate you…” I squealed.