Be Careful With Your Online Friends

You know how your parents always told you to never talk to strangers online? Yeah, there's a good reason for that.

I had a traumatizing experience with an "online friend" in the past. I want to warn anybody reading this, especially anybody in a similar situation as me, of the dangers that you could be putting yourself in.

For background, I was 15 when this story took place. At the time, Grand Theft Auto V was the hot new thing. I bought it for Playstation 3 about one week after it initially launched. I had an absolute blast with it. To be honest, I slept late a lot of nights after getting the game. When I was done with the story mode and got sick of playing single player, I hopped into Grand Theft Auto Online. It was just as much fun as GTA V's story.

I met some pretty cool people on GTA Online. To this day, I'm still in contact with some of them. However, there's a reason I now keep my online friends at an arm's length.

On GTA Online, I met this guy called Vidispace. He was a real blast to talk and play with. He was older than me, but that wasn't a problem. He told me about his past, that he was in the RAF and did multiple tours of duty in the Middle East, that he owned a business in Cornwall just south of Truro, had 3 kids around my age, and other things I can't remember. He also told me that he had "connections" to some high profile people. Me being a dumb 15 year old, I ate his stories up. He honestly seemed like the coolest guy ever to me, and I'd be lying if I said he didn't get me rolling on the floor laughing more than a few times.

Our time in GTA was mostly spent just doing missions and griefing other players. One of the missions, I can't remember which, ended with us getting boatloads of cash. Seeing that green number on the top right of my screen got me saying "God, if only I could earn that type of money". Vidispace asked me "Do you not work?". I told him no, that I was just a broke teenager who only occassionally earned money from doing chores, to which he said "I can help you with that". He told me that I could work for him at his business. When I asked him what I would be doing, he said "It's just like in the game. We'll be pretending to do work on the outside while secretly we'll be pulling off heists. It'll be fun, trust me". Being the impressionable dumbass that I was, that job offer sounded so good I couldn't turn it down. After all, who wouldn't want to do all the fun stuff they do in their favourite game and earn money from it?

I told him I was interested, and he said that he would get in further touch with me. He gave me his phone number and told me to text him "GTA Job". I sent him the text, to which he simply responded with my PSN name and asking if it was me. When I told him that it indeed was me, he told me a little more about himself.

His real name was, supposedly, Mark Oliver, and his codename was "Vex". He was 48 and looking for recruits to his business. He asked me to send my address to him, which I gave. He told me that he had guys in the city I lived in, and that he would tell them to drive me to his business. When I asked about my parents, he said that they could get some of my money, but that they couldn't know about my new job until after I was working there, because it was allegedly "highly secretive". He asked me when his guys could pick me up, to which I said "this very day". He said he was happy that I could get to work immediately, and sent me an address to meet up at. Before ending the conversation, he again drilled the importance of my parents not knowing about this into my skull, telling me to sneak out at midnight when they wouldn't know.

That night, I snuck out of my house from my bedroom's window, taking with me only a few pounds and some gum, and began to head for the address. It wasn't very far from where I lived, at least, it was close enough that I could safely get there at night. After some walking, I reached the address he gave me. It was an old, beaten up looking house that looked abandoned. No lights were on inside, and only the sound of crickets could be heard. The rest of the street's houses weren't in as bad of condition, so I didn't really question the state of the place. After some waiting, I noticed a vehicle coming down the road, when it got closer, I recognised it to be a van. It stopped right in front of me, and out stepped two people, both wearing masks with dark clothing. They looked at me and asked "Are you the kid Vex was talking about?". By then, I was frightened by those people, so I began to bolt. Unfortunately, it seemed like the two were ready for that, because they caught up with me and tackled me to the ground. I struggled for a bit, but by the end they managed to cover my mouth and tie my hands and legs with duct tape before throwing me into the back of the van. Before closing the door, one of them told me "Don't worry kid, this is just our hazing ritual". They slammed the door in my face, and my vision was enveloped in darkness.

I was terrified. I was regretting my decision to ever take that guy's stupid too-good-to-be-true offer. I was worried about what my parents would think. I was worried that I was going to be trafficked, forced into some criminal organisation, ransomed, or worse. I wanted to scream, but couldn't. I wanted to kick my legs, but couldn't. I wanted to punch myself and the walls, but couldn't. I couldn't do anything but cry and wait.

The van was in awful condition. The back area, where I was put, smelled of rotten eggs and feces, and with the duct tape over my mouth, I was forced to smell it. The floor felt wet. I couldn't see the drivers, something was blocking the front area. There were no windows. The van jumped up at the slightest bump, and I felt every single one. My skull hit the hard metal floor every time the vehicle ran over so much as a pebble.

We drove for hours. I didn't know where I was. The entire time I was hoping that somebody would accidentally crash into the van, kill the drivers, and I would be found and let free. But that didn't happen.

God must have been watching me that day, and decided that I had to be saved, because something happened on that drive that would save my life. After pulling for the umpteenth time, the tape around my arms came off. To this day, I don't know why. Maybe my kidnappers didn't put the tape on right, maybe there wasn't enough tape to hold me forever, maybe I was strong enough to break free myself, or maybe God himself divinely intervened and broke the tape for me, but whichever way it happened, I was free. After freeing my arms, I removed the tape from my legs and mouth. I knew not to draw the attention of my kidnappers, because they would probably just pull over to some dark desolate place and bind me again, so I waited for them to eventually stop the truck before I tried to make a run for it.

After a while of driving, the van stopped. I knew that it was then or never, so I opened the door and, with my adrenaline pumping, made a run for it. When I opened the door, I saw that we had stopped at a petrol station. Without thinking, I booked it straight into the building. Somehow, my kidnappers saw me, because not far behind me I heard footsteps running towards me and their voices yelling "Hey! Get back here!". I didn't stop. I didn't stop until I was in the restroom. I locked the door behind me, and moments later I heard kicking from the other side and saw the knob violently turning. I was just curled up in the corner of that dirty restroom, crying my eyes out, hoping that the door would hold and that the two men wouldn't be able to get their hands on me again.

A few minutes passed. The kicking and knob turning had long ceased, only the sound of the light kept me company, that and my whimpers. I heard a key being inserted into the lock outside, and in came an old man dressed in the station's uniform. Looking at me, he asked "What the fuck happened here?".

Before I knew it, I was on the phone with the police. By some luck, the kidnappers either forgot or didn't bother to take my phone, meaning I could make a call. After talking with the police, I called my parents. They were horrified, relieved, sad, and angry at the same time. I don't blame them. Looking out the windows, I could see the blue sky of the morning. We must've been driving for hours, because it was pitch dark when the two men took me.

A few days later, I was back home and having a discussion with my parents. They were mad at me for my stupid decision, and took my PS3 and phone away for a long time for it.

As for the kidnappers and Mark, the police launched an investigation into them. They told me that most likely, what happened was that Mark and the kidnappers were part of some international organization, cartel, cult, whatever, that engaged in human trafficking. Camera footage from the petrol station revealed that my kidnappers were both middle aged white males. The police couldn't trace back Mark, unfortunately, and his PSN was deleted by the time I got home. As for the van, that too they couldn't find, the last time it was seen was leaving the petrol station. Their identities, to this day, remain a mystery.

I'm still kind of anxious about the whole thing. While I don't live with my parents anymore, the thought that somebody, or some group, may have their address and may do something in retribution for what happened all those years ago, worries me every night.

Last Updated: June 24, 2024
Page Created: June 24, 2024