Falling down the rabbit hole is an easy thing to do at AskReddit, where threads continue to inspire head-shaking on a variety of subjects. Some threads are too messy while some of them oversell themselves by title.
With this particular thread — “What Is The Most F*cked Up Family Secret You Know?” — the answers do not disappoint those looking for the creepiest tales imaginable. The content does, however, inspire awe at how these people are able to function in the world with such horrific histories lurking in the backs of their minds.
Some of the secrets are filthy yet lighthearted, such as this one from a_great_thinker:
“I was conceived at a swingers party and nobody in my family (who knows this) is completely sure my dad is my biological father. (How did I find out? Alcohol.)”
This tale from Wyatt821 is simple, grody, and effective:
“My aunt caught her husband having sex with his mother in the bathtub after she came home from work. Needless to say, immediate divorce.”
It wouldn’t be a Reddit thread without some beastiality from Nicahole:
“I’m related, by marriage, to a man who got caught f*cking horses. He even went to jail over it. Neigh means neigh! (my husbands uncle, no, I didn’t marry the horse f*cker.)”
Things meander into merely odd territory with Sleeping Sheeperson:
“My grandmother got out of her bad relationship by running away with her husband’s brother. So some of my dad’s siblings are half-sibling, half-cousins.”
Now, it’s time to grow progressively darker with HermanHansel:
“My great great grandmother’s niece died while on ‘a surprise trip to see a relative in another state.’ She actually got blood poisoning from my great great grandmother giving her an at home abortion.”
Did we say dark? Because it’s time to get really dark. From here on out, consider yourselves duly warned, starting with this one from Groovy_pickle:
“My grandfather beat a man to death with a kitchen chair. This happened back in the early 1950s, and the man was my grandmother’s lover.”
Undeadgorgeous whipped out her “blood mattress story,” which is a NOPE:
“When my grandma was growing up in Costa Rica around 1940-something her mother was dating a guy who seemed like bad news. Just all around weird guy, neither my grandma or her sister liked him. Their mother wouldn’t listen. He’s fine, he takes care of us, etc.
“Except one night this guy decides he’s had enough of ‘being nice’ and ‘taking care of them.’ He decides to murder my great grandma in her bed via a hammer to the skull. There is a LOT of blood. Not just on the walls and ceiling but soaking into the mattress beneath the body. My grandma and her sister come home to find their mom dead, their house covered in blood and the murderer nowhere to be found. So they call the police, the police take the body away, do a cursory examination of the crime scene and call it a day. It was rural Costa Rica before the Second World War. There wasn’t a lot they could do forensically and the only thing they had to go on was the fact that the boyfriend was nowhere to be found. So the police leave, leaving twelve year old grandma and her nine year old sister to clean up the mess. They scrub the blood off the walls and ceiling then realize something. If they throw away the bloody mattress then they have no bed left. The one they shared with their mother was the only bed in the house. So, being poor and frugal, they decide to flip the mattress. My grandma held the bottom end while her sister turned the whole thing up on one end. Instead of flipping the mattress my grandma ended up doused in all the blood that had been pooling inside of it. Apparently it was cold, and thick, and more like syrup than liquid. To this day my family maintains that getting doused in her murdered mother’s blood was what turned her into the crazy/evil woman we all know.”
Here’s a short yet completely depressing entry from Mortss:
“My great grandmother from Croatia Yugoslavia most likely drowned a pair of her own twins because they couldnt afford them (rural 20’s
This second-to-last story triggers much empathy for REO_SpeedDealer:
“My father came back from Vietnam in 1969 and he was pretty messed up. I don’t know where he was or what he saw but it wasn’t good for a kid from northern Minnesota. He started using heroin pretty heavily after coming back. And drinking. Lots of drinking. He met my mom and after a whirlwind courtship in a haze of drugs and alcohol they got married. Shortly thereafter mom got pregnant. From what I understand my mom was not a heavy user like my dad until they met. He was nice enough to introduce her to heroin. Fast forward a little bit. Mom and dad fought a lot apparently. And one day around the time I was ten months old my father decided to show my mom how disturbed he truly was. They were arguing in the garage and he picked me up and threw me headfirst into the concrete floor. He used enough force to not just fracture my skull but a piece of it actually broke away. Exposing my brain. My mother then hit him with a shovel or something which prompted him to go to his car and get his gun and shoot my mom in the face. And then shoot himself in the head.
“That’s the day I almost died. Spent most of the next year in the hospital. They thought I would be brain damaged or a vegetable but I turned out not too bad. I get these headaches sometimes right along where part of my skull was dislodged. I’ve dealt with my fair share of mental health issues. Other things here and there but I can deal with it all. I was lucky to have a great Aunt and Uncle who took me in and adopted me. Wonderful people who I have only ever known as my mom and dad.”
To cleanse the palette and return to a simpler time, here’s an almost adorable secret from Rainman Zuckerberg:
“My dad has trouble signing into his AOL account.”