I've always had what some people call a morbid curiosity. Crime scene photos, accidents, whatever the disaster, my mind would literally not let me rest until I could see.
Seen by most as morally questionable, I kept my strange obsession mostly to myself.
That was, until I met Sean. He started working at the same warehouse as me a few months after I started, and almost instantly we were best friends.
In casual conversation, he offhandedly mentioned a website I used to frequent that had a huge archive of photos of the dead. " You go on there!?"
He looked at me and shrugged. It's not like I get pleasure from seeing stuff like that, it's just-"
"Interesting?" I interrupted.
He nodded but remained silent, probably gauging my reaction.
"Did you see the Paleretto case photos?"
Shocked, he stared at me for a minute.
"Y-yeah. It was gnarly as f***. I kept seeing it when I closed my eyes for a week straight."
From that day on, we would trade true crime stories, accidents and the like, and then the photos. It sounds horrible, but I swear it was just out of curiosity and nothing more. On my end at least, I always felt a solemnity, a sympathy, a sadness.
I don't know if Sean shared my sentiment, but if he didn't I never knew.
One Saturday night, as I was watching a late night sitcom, I received a text from him, strangely vague and immensely intriguing.
"www.deepcut.com"
That's it. That's all it read. A domain name with an ominous feel to it.
"What is it?" I replied.
He left me on seen. With an exasperated sigh and nagging curiosity, I grabbed my laptop and typed in the address.
After briefly loading, I felt my skin prickle as the screen went completely dark.
The power button still indicated it was on, so I waited. After about fifteen seconds, a vhs-like static flickered on the screen, and a small square button appeared, saying "Enter."
Immediately clicking the button, I was then greeted by a plain white screen covered in hundreds of hyperlinks with strange titles, some in different languages.
One of the links, titled "Rosie Went Round" caught my attention.
I took a deep breath and clicked.
A blurred image popped up, with a prompt to "Click to see". So I did.
I almost slammed my laptop shut.
A woman, Rosie I presume, sat at a computer desk, cast under a bluish hue. Her back was towards the camera. However, so was her head.
Her eyes stared at me through the screen, and I felt unease in the pit of my stomach.
Deciding that I'd had enough, I exited the site and got ready to go to bed, trying to stop thinking about what I'd just seen.
It was easier said than done and I spent most of the night tossing and turning, seeing those eyes.
At some point I finally drifted off to sleep, only to have the worst nightmare I'd ever had in my life.
I was there-in that room-as the formerly deceased Rosie danced her fingers across the keyboard, unaware she had an audience.
Slowly, i crept up behind her, peeking at the computer screen as she clicked away.
A very familiar screen was displayed on her monitor.
Hundreds of blue hyperlinks on a white background.
She quickly scrolled down the page, causing the links to blur, and clicked a link at random.
As soon as I read the title, fear and unease rose in my belly.
It read "Sean Unseen."
As she unblurred the pictures , I felt my heart sink into the floor.
The first one showed a brick wall, with a single brick missing.
The second however, was taken close up to the hole, with the flash on. Inside the wall was Sean.
He was dead. His skin was pale and bruised, his eyes open, but unseeing.
"F***!"
A pair of rough hands grabbed my shoulders and tossed me to the side, as I heard the sounds of a struggle.
I awoke to the sound of screaming.
Drenched with sweat, I opened my computer and went back to the website.
It was there. Sean Unseen.
Tears formed in my eyes as the sound of footsteps came from behind me.
