Chasing The Story

Taking The Step

Alissia POV

Jake drops down onto the couch, his eyes narrowing at the piece of paper filled with lists. He picks it up, reading over it, and a small laugh escapes him. “What is all this?” He looks at me, shaking his head.

“Oh, you know, just a list of random people who could kill us that Alissia wants to shadow for a week,” Jenni chimes in with a chuckle.

Jake raises an eyebrow, turning his amused gaze back to me. “Right, okay. Sounds fun. Why am I here?”

“For that reason, Jake. I need your help,” I say, my voice more serious than I intended. His eyes flicker with curiosity.

“Help with what?” His expression turns cautious.

“I need to find out how to get on the dark web and talk to people there,” I say, holding my breath, waiting for the laughter.

And he doesn’t disappoint. He laughs so hard his head tilts back. But when he looks at me again and sees my expression hasn’t changed, his smile fades. “s**t, you’re being serious?”

I nod. “Yeah, I am.”

Jake stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Why the hell do you want to be on the dark web?”

I explain everything to him—the book, the research, the wild idea that’s been growing in my mind ever since Jenni’s offhand joke turned into my next great plan. I spill the whole thing, hoping he’ll understand.

He listens quietly, but the disapproval is etched across his face. “Alissia,” he says slowly, “this is a crazy idea. The dark web isn’t like the normal internet. You’ll see some disturbing s**t there, stuff you can’t unsee. It’s not exactly a place to browse for inspiration.”

“I know,” I say, leaning forward. “But I need to do this. I can’t write another book that flops. This... this is going to give me the authenticity I need. Please, Jake. I’m begging you.”

He sighs, leaning back against the couch and rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t get it. Asking to shadow a criminal, any type of criminal, on the dark web is a huge red flag. Even if you’re careful, there’s always a chance someone could trace your activity. People could figure out who you really are. It could come back to bite you in ways you don’t want.”

I bite my lip, my stomach churning at his words, but I don’t back down. “I understand the risks, Jake. But I need this. You know I’ve tried everything else.”

He watches me for a moment, then sighs again, running a hand through his hair. “You’re insane. Absolutely out of your mind.” After a beat, he nods. “Fine. I’ll set it up. But I’m telling you, this could go bad. Really bad.”

My heart jumps in my chest as he pulls his laptop from his bag and sets it on the table. “Okay,” he says, plugging in a USB stick. “First, I’m downloading the Tor browser. That’s your gateway to the dark web. It routes your internet traffic through layers of encryption, bouncing it off random servers so it’s hard to trace. Think of it like an onion with layers of protection.”

He clicks through a few settings, setting up the Tor browser on my laptop. “Next, I’m connecting you to a VPN.” He types rapidly, pulling up a screen I don’t understand. “This makes your connection more secure by masking your IP address. Think of it like a disguise. It won’t make you invincible, but it’ll hide your real location.”

I nod along, trying to absorb everything he’s telling me, though most of it goes over my head.

“Okay, now you’ll be able to access dark web sites. They usually end in ‘.onion.’ But this isn’t like regular browsing. You need to know the specific addresses to find anything worthwhile.” He glances at me. “Don’t just go clicking around on random links. Trust me, there’s some really dark stuff out there. Stick to what you’re looking for.”

He clicks through a few more security settings, installing an extra layer of encryption. “I’m trying to make your connection as secure as possible, but nothing’s guaranteed. You still need to be careful. This is dangerous territory.”

Once he’s finished, he leans back, giving me a hard look. “There. You’re in. But remember what I said—no matter what you do, there’s always a chance someone could break through your system and figure out who you are. This isn’t a game, Alissia. Never give your real details.”

I swallow hard, the weight of what I’m about to do sinking in. “I understand, Jake. I’ll be careful.”

He shakes his head, clearly unconvinced, but doesn’t argue further. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

Jake walks off with Jenni, leaving me alone in the living room with my laptop. The sound of their footsteps fades as the door clicks shut behind them. I take a deep breath and turn my attention back to the screen, the glow of the dark web forum casting an eerie light in the dim room.

I scroll cautiously through the posts, being careful not to click on anything with attachments. I’ve heard enough horror stories about the kind of things people post here—graphic images of dead animals or worse. I’m not here for that. I’m here to find inspiration, but my gut twists as I read a few of the posts. The casual mentions of violence, the dark humor. This is... bad. Really bad. But I’m here now, and I can’t back down. I have to do this.

I click “New Post,” and a blank form pops up on the screen. My fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment before I start typing the title.

Looking for one of the following.

My hands are sweating, but I push through, hitting the content box and starting to type again.

Author here! This is going to sound like some crazy-ass request, but I’m at a loss, and I don’t believe all criminals are evil—not entirely anyway.

I pause, rereading the line. It sounds ridiculous. It is ridiculous. But I can’t stop now. I keep typing.

So, here it is. I want to write a dark romance story. After many flops—not because of my writing, more like people just aren’t interested because my books aren’t different enough—I had another idea.

I want to shadow one of the people listed below. I know that sounds crazy, but to write a dark romance with a character who leads one of these lives isn’t easy. I want it to be accurate.

So, yeah. If anyone can help, that would be amazing. I promise total secrecy—nothing you do will be brought up in the book. All the situations will be fictional, but I will draw upon my time with you as inspiration.

Please don’t find me, stalk me, kidnap me, and murder me thinking I’m some weirdo trying to... well, I don’t even know.

BTW, I’m Nova 😉, which is my pseudonym for my books. Here’s the list of who I’m hoping to contact. Even just one would be amazing!

Torturer/Interrogator

Kidnapper-for-Hire

Underground Fighter

Mafia Boss

Cartel Leader

Serial Killer

Black Market Dealer

Stranger Stalker

I tag a few extra words, plus some usernames that seem like they might fit, just in case any of them are genuine. My heart races as I read over the post one last time. This is insane. This is... so insane. But it’s out there now.

I hesitate for a split second before hitting “Post.”

And just like that, it’s done.

I stare at the screen, my heart hammering in my chest. Holy f*****g s**t. I’ve done it. I’ve actually put out a request to shadow real criminals on the dark web. I can’t believe I’ve gone through with this. The post sits there, glowing on the forum, like an invitation to chaos.

What have I just done?