Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

No

“Eight years, eight fucking years, and not one word, not one FUCKING word! And now, NOW you come here, to my HOME of all places, expecting me to give you money! ME, give YOU money? Has it been so long you’ve forgotten? Have you, at some stage of your worldly travels, hit your head? Because if you had, that would explain why you’d think coming to me, ME of all people, asking for money, would be a good idea! I won’t do it, Conrad, I just won’t!”

“Mortimer, please, you completely misunderstand where I’m coming from. I’m not giving you a choice in the matter; this is not a negotiation. It’s rather simple, really. You either pay the money, or we have problems. And by me saying we, I actually mean you will be the one with the problem, one that you’ll not really recover from.”

“Threats will do little against me! How dare you think s….”

“FUCK YOU! The money, Mortimer, before this becomes more than just a conversation,” Conrad says with a wry smile.

Leaping to his feet and thrusting a pointed finger towards the door, Mortimer yells, “Get out and never set foot before me again!”

“NO!”

“W-W-What? WHAT did you just say?”

“I’m pretty sure you heard what I said. But if you missed it, if you’re slightly hard of hearing, I said NO! I’m not going anywhere.”

“H-H-H-How, how dare you. GET OUT NOW! Get out before I do something we can both never come back from!”

“The snake reveals his true nature. Now, who’s the one threatening who?”

Mortimer charges towards Conrad, his eyes wild with anger, his face twisted and dark. A trail of saliva flows from the corner of his mouth. The two hit each other in a fury of fists, blood, and screams. Conrad drives a knee up into Mortimer’s face, sending him reeling backward, followed by a sea of red. He crashes to the ground, and within moments, Conrad is upon him, a knife at his throat.

“Don’t make me do this, for I will not falter, I will not give mercy. Give me what I ask, or I will take it after I remove your head!”

“THEN DO IT! Because that’s the only way you’ll get anything from me, when I’m dead and buried!” he yells, spitting a wad of blood into Conrad’s face.

“Someday, when we meet again, I hope you will forgive me for this,” Conrad says softly, as he slices the blade across his throat.

“R-R-Rot in hell, you’re no SON OF MINE!” he yells, as his blood quickly begins to fill his throat, choking him, as Conrad smiles.

“Funny you should say that, old man, because that was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.”