A dark web of monsters, p.1
A Dark Web of Monsters, page 1
A Dark Web of Monsters
J. Boote
Copyright © 2023 by J. Boote
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Formatted by Red Cape Publishing.
Cover by Grim Poppy Designs.
Warning
The story you are about to read is based on fact. The things that occur in this novel really happen. It is not a product of a twisted author’s mind. So if you don’t have the stomach for what follows, or think you might be offended in some way, put it down right now and leave. Don’t go blaming me if you get triggered…
Chapter 1
"I cut her tit off using piano wire. Then told her that if she wanted to survive she had to cut the other one off herself. And guess what? She fucking did it! Took a while but she did it. How's that for absolute control and power!"
Chapter 2
Lucy Smith looked herself over in the mirror and smiled. Perfect. Not a blemish on her fair skin, not a hair out of place. Her bright blue eyes shone as much as her permed, shoulder-length blonde hair. Her breasts were already bigger than her mother’s and she was only fourteen. Not grossly big but enough to capture the attention of anyone who looked her way. And this was precisely what she wanted the most in life. For the right someone to look her way.
She knew the chances were slim, extremely so, but she was optimistic by nature, and refused to listen to those that hinted at her being a little naïve in her chosen career plan. Perhaps the other girls at school were jealous of her good looks and perfect figure and wanted to try and dissuade her so they could feel better about themselves. Maybe her teachers—some of them, anyway—were just trying to be realistic with her so she didn’t get too upset when the failures and rejections came along, but she refused to give up her dream. One day she was going to become a model and nothing would stop her.
Her parents had sat her down shortly after she announced her intentions and rather than act like all the others, try and talk her out of it, had gone through the various options required. Check out the websites of all agencies, help her prepare a portfolio and carefully proofread her email before sending both. They had also warned her of the dangers involved in such matters and not everything was as it appeared. Monsters really did roam the world, her father told her, but these were not mythical creatures that drank blood or flew up from hell; instead, real living, breathing human beings. Lucy listened but she wasn’t stupid or naïve. She knew the dangers perfectly well from reading about horror stories on the internet, and a few videos on YouTube. There was no way she was showing her body to some creep she’d never met before, no matter how much he offered.
But she also knew that if she was to have any chance of fulfilling a dream, she couldn’t spend her whole life chasing it. By the time she was twenty her flawless looks might have gone, her weight betraying her, and it would be all over before it even started. But every single agency she had emailed had either rejected her or simply didn’t bother replying. And Lucy was starting to get desperate.
She sat at her desk and typed in Modelling Agencies again for the hundredth time, scouring for any sites she might have missed after checking her emails once more. Nothing. Lucy felt like crying, as though her life was slipping away from her, snatched from her grasp before she even had time to begin. She might only be fourteen, but in her eyes she might as well be forty—her ambitions far away like old, half-forgotten memories. And then her heart fluttered in her chest. Here was one she hadn’t seen before.
Teen Dreams was the name of the website. She read through everything, checked their portfolio, address, phone number, testimonials. It seemed completely legitimate. But heeding her father’s advice, rather than sending her portfolio immediately as she was so tempted to do, she wrote to them, asking for more information. Happy again, imagining her face on every billboard in Bradwell where she lived and across England, she smiled and climbed into bed. It took her a long time to fall asleep as her imagination ran wild.
As soon as she awoke the next morning, she checked her inbox on her phone. There it was, a reply. Lucy bolted upright in bed, immediately awake already and read the email from Teen Dreams.
Lucy,
Thank you so much for contacting us with a view to becoming a model with our company. I absolutely understand your misgivings and you did the right thing in asking for more information. With so many questionable individuals and companies out there nowadays, it is always a good idea to check backgrounds first.
I’m Lizzie, below is my phone number attached and you are welcome to call me any time. Or your parents if you prefer. Attached also is part of our portfolio of some of the many boys and girls that have worked for us in the past and their testimonials. If you feel confident about us and our company, all we ask is your portfolio, our team will go through the photos and get back to you accordingly.
Good day and looking forward to any correspondence,
Liz Blackwater.
Lucy could have wept. She jumped out of bed and ran down to show her mother, who read through the email twice before handing back her phone. She looked doubtful despite it appearing authentic.
“What?”
“Mmm, I dunno, Lucy. It looks and sounds okay, but yeah, maybe your father should check them out first. Let him speak to this Lizzie woman, have a look at the testimonials and then we’ll see. You just gotta be so careful these days.”
“Yeah, I know, but look at all the photos.”
She opened the attachment and an assortment of smiling, posing boys and girls stood there, none of the photos in any way looking questionable or suspect. They might have been kids modelling for any one of the biggest firms.
“Just…go to school, wait for your dad to get home from work and he’ll talk to them. A few hours won’t hurt.”
Lucy thought she might die from impatience, but she reluctantly agreed and headed upstairs to get ready. But not before sending her portfolio anyway, for good luck.
It was the longest day of her life but as promised her father was already home and had been told of the good news.
“Well, Dad,” she said after giving him the mandatory hug and cheek kiss, “did you speak to her?”
He chuckled. “Yes, I did. We had a long chat, I told her my thoughts and doubts, and she seemed quite reasonable and understanding, even inviting us down to their office in London, but I said it’s a long way away and we don’t really have time right now. But as far as we’re concerned, we’re happy for you to send your portfolio. Good luck, girl, you deserve it.”
Lucy squealed in delight and hugged him effusively again, saying nothing about having already sent the portfolio. She hugged her mother too, kissing her, which also induced chuckles from her then rushed upstairs to text her friends. Afterwards, she checked her email. There was a reply from Liz.
Hello again, Lucy.
Just to let you know we really liked your portfolio. You're a lucky girl to have been blessed with both a good figure and good looks and we're excited about the possibility of working with you.
Now, for our summer programme coming up we're looking to push a new client's work specialising in bikinis. We would appreciate if you could send us a photo of yourself posing in one of your own to get an idea of what designs might best fit you.
If you agree, a contract will be drawn up and you'll be invited, all expenses paid, including your parents, to come down to London and try our exclusive new products.
Looking forward to hearing from you,
Liz.
After reading the email, Lucy thought she might pee herself she was so excited. But instead of that, she cried. Within ten minutes, the photo of her in her most provocative bikini had been sent. Once again, she struggled to sleep that night.
She struggled to sleep for several more nights afterwards too when an email was sent to her including a photo. But it wasn't quite the same photo she'd sent. Instead, it showed Lucy in her original pose but somehow the bikini she had been wearing was missing and she was now standing there naked. There was a message too.
Hi, Lucy.
I'll try and make this as simple as possible. You will send me photos of yourself in similar poses, naked, or I will email the photo I made to all your friends and family. I found your Facebook and Instagram accounts and know everything about you, including where you live. I'm sure the embarrassment would be huge.
If you go to the police or tell anyone, I will do the same thing. It's up to you; send me what I want or your modelling career is over.
Liz.
Lucy spent the rest of the night vomiting in the toilet.
Chapter 3
Kate Radcliffe gently rubbed her daughter, Angela, until she began to stir and groan.
"Go away, I'm asleep!" she muttered.
"Not anymore you're not. C'mon, time for school. Up!"
"I don't wanna go to school. I wanna sleep forever. Wake me up when I'm your age."
"I'm thirty-four, Angela, you're twelve. You want to stay in bed the next twenty years? You know what would happen? Your skin would go all wrinkly like your great-grandmother an d you'd get bed sores. And twenty years of peeing the bed? That would smell pretty bad. And I'm not cleaning it so it's up to you."
"I don't care. I'll just buy new sheets."
Kate started her next trick; tickling her daughter under the ribs. As always it worked. Angela started giggling and rolling around.
"Your breakfast is getting cold. Up!"
"Just five more minutes? Please?"
But Angela already knew the answer, the same as every day. Reluctantly, she threw the blanket back, rubbed her eyes and sat up. Even though she would have enjoyed sleeping a bit longer, she also enjoyed getting to school early and chatting with her friends. Of which she had many.
She was one of the most popular girls in her class and already her long black hair, almond shaped hazel eyes, snub nose and freckles was attracting the attention of some of the older boys. Not to mention her budding breasts which she was secretly delighted about. When she looked in the mirror, she thought she looked perhaps fifteen instead and this was something that made her extremely happy. Especially as none of her best friends had developed anything remotely similar yet.
Her mother already having headed back downstairs, she climbed out of bed and dressed. She'd never admit it because other kids might call her a nerd and that could never happen, but she secretly loved going to school and couldn’t understand some of the other kids that said they hated it. All her friends were there and they could meet up in secret and chat about everything without worrying about adults overhearing them. She loved playing netball twice a week, swimming, learning about new subjects and was regularly top of the class when it came to grades. The only subject she struggled with was maths but she wasn’t alone and being a highly independent girl already, was determined to master the seemingly impossible subject. And she’d already decided that when she grew up she was going to be a teacher, like Mrs. Clark, who was so friendly and always willing to help, never losing her patience with other, more distracted kids. Even her uncle, Aaron, was a geography teacher at the school and she loved it when he came over and told her funny stories about some of the things both the kids and teachers did. Those who didn’t like school were weird, she thought.
Angela ate her breakfast while telling her mother some of the latest gossip from school. She told her mother everything as she’d been encouraged to do often and treated her more like an older friend than parent. Sometimes they discussed serious subjects like the boys at school and that she should be wary of them on occasions, especially the older ones, while her mother would also tell her funny stories about when she was her age and the mischief she got up to. In the evenings when her dad, James, came home from the building construction site he worked at, his stories were often even funnier. She’d gasp and giggle at some of his antics as a schoolboy, finding it unbelievable someone could have the courage to do such things. On one occasion, he said, he and his friends had stretched clingfilm across the toilet bowls so when unsuspecting boys came in to pee, they would inadvertently soak their trousers. Angela had nearly peed herself laughing so much. When Kate overheard this story, she was horrified, berating him for putting bad ideas in their daughter’s head. But Angela would never dream of doing such a thing.
“So, I may not have time to pick you up today, okay? If I can’t, because I might have to go to a meeting, I’ll let your uncle know, so he can bring you home.”
“But why can’t I come home by myself? It’s not that far. And I can walk home with Sam and Chrissy.”
“It’s not that close to school from here, Angela, we’ve already discussed this. There’s a lot of weirdos out there and I wouldn’t feel comfortable about it. So c’mon, get your teeth brushed and we’re off, or I’ll be late for work too.”
Grumbling, she headed upstairs to get ready, bemoaning the fact she was almost a teenager by now—almost an adult—but still wasn’t allowed to walk home with friends. She wasn’t even allowed a mobile phone until she reached her thirteenth birthday and that was still six months away. Finally ready, she grabbed her backpack and left to get in her waiting mother’s car.
By the time her mother had driven off, thoughts of not being treated like a responsible adult had vanished as she ran to meet her friends. Squeals of delight and hugs and kisses were traded between her two best friends, current TV shows they were watching discussed before the bell sounded for class. As always, the day went quickly and Angela enjoyed almost every second of it. Except, once again, maths.
It was as the last bell rang to signal the end of the day that her uncle called her over just as she was about to head outside.
“Hi, Uncle Aaron. Everything okay?”
“Hey there, Angela. Everything’s fine, but listen, your mother phoned to say she had to work late, so asked if I could drive you home. Unfortunately, we have a teacher meeting in a bit, so instead I phoned your aunt Emma and she’s come to collect you. Her car is parked just down the street, you know the one.”
Angela agreed, only a little upset it wasn’t her uncle driving her home. Aunt Emma always gave her some pocket money when she saw her but when alone Uncle Aaron always gave her a little more—a secret between them. She gave him a hug as always and headed off to look for her aunt.
Chapter 4
“Whadaya mean, she didn’t come home?”
“I’m telling you, Aaron, she’s not home!” yelled Kate. “Did you pick her up or not?”
“No, I already told you. When I went to look for her she was already gone. There were no other kids here, so I assumed you must have come and collected her. You mean, you didn’t?”
But Kate didn’t reply. She’d already hung up the phone and was rushing to her car. It was as though a nest of worms had woken from a long sleep in her stomach. A constant desire to vomit threatened to see her careening off the road into the nearest tree or lamp post. Something was very wrong. Angela would never do this. Never. She was the most responsible child she knew. To the point both she and James sometimes joked that she was too responsible, and took things far too seriously, even at her young age. Children were supposed to have fun and be mischievous, not worry about doing bad in an exam when she should be enjoying spare time with friends.
Kate hurtled down the road, a thousand thoughts hurtling through her mind. Had someone kidnapped her? Had she hurt herself and was lying injured somewhere? Why had her brother-in-law, Aaron, not ensured she didn’t leave without him? Why the fuck had she insisted Angela was too young for a mobile phone, even if all her friends at school had one? Was this something she was going to regret? The girl sure was responsible enough, and it had been on her and her alone to deny her daughter one. Tears already dribbled down her cheeks, blurring her eyes making driving yet more difficult.
But she made it safely and came to a screeching halt in front of the school. Aaron and other concerned-looking teachers were spread out throughout the grounds calling Angela’s name, evidently to no avail. She jumped out and ran to Aaron yelling questions at him.
“Kate, calm down. I’m sure she’s fine. Teachers are out looking for her already. I’m sure she just decided to go home with a couple of friends, they got chatting, and she didn’t realise the time. It happens all the time, we often get worried parents phoning the school asking where their kids are.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down, Aaron! My girl is missing! And you were supposed to bring her home. Now tell me, who was the last one to see her? Have you spoken to her friends yet? Have you phoned the police?”
“Cal…Okay, as I said when I went to find her, her class was already empty. Her teacher didn’t notice who she left with. No one did. It’s only been a couple of hours but the headmaster has already started phoning some of her friends, the ones I know she hangs out with the most. They haven’t seen her, but she’s a popular kid, she could have gone with anyone. We just need to calm down and keep a clear head. Let’s go to the headmaster’s office and you can give him a list of her best friends to check first.”
“You tell me to calm down one more fucking time, Aaron, I swear…Angela has never come home late before, not once. Someone must have seen her, it’s a school for Christ’s sake, there are kid and parents everywhere!”
