Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Today’s story is brought to life by the following prompt…

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS July 20, 2024 

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “a repeated story.” Include in your post a story you’ve repeated again and again or a story you’ve heard again and again. Or write about the phenomenon itself. Have fun..

Just Like Bill

Shawn’s face screws up, and he lets out a long-winded sigh of frustration. “I just don’t think you’re getting what I’m saying!” he grumbles, thrusting his head into his hands and staring at the floor with wide, frantic eyes.

Ashley grips him by the shoulders and begins to knead them. “It’s not important, we can talk about it tom…” but she doesn’t get to finish her words as Shawn wriggles out of her grip.

“GOD DAMN IT!” he bellows, grabbing at the air, strangling imaginary throats, snapping them over his knee, then grabbing another and repeating the process several times before arching himself towards the roof and screaming once again. He takes a deep breath and turns back to face Ashley, his hands clenched into fists and his jaw tightly closed. “I can’t tell you tomorrow because there is no tomorrow, like I said before,” he grumbles through clenched teeth.

She shakes her head and crosses her arms matter-of-factly across her chest. “That never happened,” she says.

His eyes widen, and his face turns bright red as a sea of blood floods his cheeks. “D-Don’t FUCKING do this again,” he spits, thrusting a pointed finger towards the wall, standing on tiptoe as he does. “It’s all THERE! It’s all THERE!” he cries.

Ashley looks at the wall, then turns back to Shawn, her face wrought with confusion. “What’s all there, Shawn?” she asks.

Shawn sighs loudly and turns to the wall. “EVERYTHING! From start…” His words trail off, and his jaw drops open as a fresh sea of sweat breaks out upon his brow. “F-F-FUCK!” he spits, as he starts jumping on the spot. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” he cries, eventually collapsing in a heap on the floor, tears flooding down his cheeks.

Ashley crouches over him. “W-W-What was supposed to be on the wall, Shawn?” she asks nervously.

“Everything,” he sighs as he shakes his head in dismay. “Everything!”

“C-Can you show me? C-Can you do it again?”

“I’m sick of doing it! I just want things to go back the way they were.”

She takes a stuttered sigh and tucks her head into her knees. “How were things?”

“Don’t patronise me!” he quips back.

“Shawn, please, that’s not what I’m doing. I-I-I really want to know, truly,” she says softly, as she reaches out and grips his arm gently.

“R-Really?”

She smiles, “Yes, Shawn, really.”

He leaps up, a renewed smile on his face. “ALRIGHT!” he announces loudly as he pulls a marker pen from his pocket. He rushes to the wall, wipes away the few family portraits that hung proudly on display, and quickly draws a large circle. He turns back to Ashley, his face twisted, frenzied almost, a sea of spit leaking from his protruding bottom lip, and nods proudly.

They stand locked in this stance for some moments, before Ashley finally shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t get it!”

His eyes widen, and his lip quivers. “W-W-What’s not t-to get?” he stammers, casting a glance back to the circle, and then back to Ashley. “I-It’s right there!”

Ashley swallows a nervous mouthful of air and gets to her feet. “I can see a circle, but I don’t understand the intention behind it.”

He throws his head in the air and screams. “The circle is THE intention, it’s EVERYTHING, it’s today, yesterday, and tomorrow, continuing in a circle without end, without pause, repeating forever and ever, and ever…” he cries, his words trailing away.

“OH! Like Groundhog Day?” she asks excitedly.

“W-W-What?” he stammers.

“You know, the Bill Murray movie where he keeps reliving the same day over, time and time again.”

“YES!” he screams loudly, grabbing Ashley by the arms. “YES! Just like that! Just like Bill Murray! I’M JUST LIKE BILL MURRAY!”

“Cool, have you tried to kill yourself yet?” she asks with a wicked smile across her lips.

“W-What?”

“What, what?” she asks, as she looks at Shawn curiously.

“T-The part about me k-k-killing myself l-like Bill Murray in Groundhog…” but his words come to a halt, as he notices the wall adorned with family portraits once again. “Fuck!” he sighs.