Cain.com

02.17.18

It began with one user. Cain, as they were commonly known. Cain was one of the earliest members of ROBLOX, joining in 2007. Their attire was unassuming, only wearing default new member colors and a red visor. And they were generally well-received, having twenty-six friends. Back in 2007, that was a big number.

This is why nobody expected them to suddenly do what they did. When one day, Cain made a game by the name of 'Upcoming Events,' nobody questioned it. After all, why would they? It was just a regular old game.

If you chose to join the game, you would be greeted with a gray baseplate. This was the entirety of the game. Or at least, it seemed that way. If you bothered to look closer, however, you would see that there was something else hidden within the map.

Some say the way to find this hidden thing is by walking to the edge of the map and jumping up, bringing up a prompt. Others say you have to wait any time between 10 minutes to 10 hours for the prompt to show up. There were all sorts of differing opinions on how to get the prompt. Either way, they all lead to one thing.

Should you manage to find the prompt, you would see the only thing it consisted of was a single link. The website went by the name Cain.com. And it was strange. If you try to access the website normally, all it will bring you to is some abstract photography website. Should you access it through the link in the game, though, you will be greeted with something very different.

The first and potential most noticeable thing is the lack of any contents on the page. Pitch black, nothing anywhere. Well, all except for a prompt encouraging you to grant the website access to your ROBLOX launcher. Should you do it, that's when things start getting weird.

It starts with your webcam turning on, indicated by the light above your screen. Even if you try to cover it up, that won't change what will happen to you next.

The thing everyone who had the misfortunate of clicking on the website noted, was that they felt a pair of eyes watching them. If they turned around, they saw nothing there. Merely paranoia due to the situation. Or rather, that's what you were supposed to think. From there, nobody is sure what happens. After all, it's after that sense of dread that everyone had seemed to go missing.

The spread didn't stop there, though. The moment you decided to click that dastardly link, a message would be automatically sent to everyone on your friends' list. It would just be a message in chat with the URL of the website.

Cain.com was skillfully hidden. Most people didn't even notice it was happening. And if they did, they brushed it off as something else. And it's possible you did as well. Every had any online friends randomly just... disappear?