Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Placate

“So that’s your story then?” he asks as he takes a drag on the cigarette, blowing the smoke into her face.

“As I told you, man, it was all Benny. He was the one who said we should teach Jarvis a lesson. He was the one who planned it all. Me and Stacy, we had no choice. He fucking scared us, ‘cause that motherfucker, he was like a completely different person, all secretive and shit,” she says.

“And you can take us to his body?”

“I can take you to where he said he buried it. It’s not like I ever saw him actually do it,” she says as she shuffles in her seat. His left eye twitches nervously as he takes another drag on the cigarette.

“And Stacy, she can confirm this?”

“Of course the bitch can. We stayed and cleaned up that fucking mess he made while he went outside and buried that poor man’s body,” she says as she bites her lower lip nervously.

He stands up, letting out a groan, more from age than frustration. He butts the cigarette out in the ashtray and looks down at her through the smoke. “I’ll talk to Stacy and see how her story compares with yours. With any luck, you’ll both be free to go before the end of the night.”

“But, but he’s still out there, man. He could come after us. He’d want to fucking put us in the ground as well. Ain’t no way I’m going out there, no fucking way.”

“Linda, it’s okay. We already have Benny in custody. We just need to work out where you and Stacy lie in all this. Once we do, once everything lines up, you won’t have to worry about Benny. I give you my word on that,” he says as he walks out of the interrogation room, collapsing against the wall once he closes the door behind him.

“So tell me, what the fuck is going on with this shit? I wasn’t aware a circus was in town,” Superintendent Watson asks, his face pensive and his brow furrowed.

“It’s exactly what it looks like. We just need to put the noose around their necks. Right now all I’m doing is what you told me to do, placate them until he gets here,” he says as he turns to the door of the interrogation room and turns the handle, taking a deep breath in.

“Don’t throw my words back at me, Weite. You’re not clever enough to use them the way they’re supposed to be used.”

“With all due respect, Steve, kiss my arse and watch me crack this wide open,” he says as he pushes the door open. Stacy jumps as he enters the room and instantly starts chewing on her already tattered fingernails.

“Stacy, I’m Detective Inspector Weite. Thanks for being so cooperative. I know this all must be overwhelming right now, but I need you to answer some questions I have about the abduction and murder of Jarvis Sloan.”

“I-I-It, it was all Benny’s doing. He came storming into the place, dragging Jarvis behind him. He was all fucked up and shit. Then he killed him right in front of us, opened that poor son-of-a-bitch up like he was nothing,” she clutches herself tightly and nods towards his pocket, “C-Can you flip me a dart? I’m like freaking out so hard right now, man, and I need to take the edge off so bad.”

“I wasn’t aware you smoked?”

“I quit, okay, but every now and then I need one to take the edge off. You know what it’s like, there ain’t nothing like it, that hit that goes right to the top of your skull. It’s what I want right now, it’s what I crave.”

He slides the packet of cigarettes across the table, and she nervously pulls one out, stuffing the butt into her mouth. As he reaches over, the lighter flicks to life, burning the cigarette’s end, igniting the tobacco, and she takes a long, deep drag.

“So tell me what happened after Benny killed Jarvis?”

“H-H-He went and fucking buried the body down at his old shack. The prick left Linda and me to clean up the fucking mess he made. We were too scared to do anything else but what he told us to do. Anyway, Linda’s already told you this crap, and if Benny’s said anything different, he’s a lying sack of shit!”

“What makes you think we’ve talked to Benny?”

“You’ve got him, haven’t you? Or are you just trying to stir the pot to see what happens?”

“I don’t know what you…” he is interrupted by a knock at the door, and his partner Sofia Martin pokes her head into the room.

“Watson wants to see you,” she says. Weite looks at Sofia and then back at Stacy and smiles.

“We’ll continue this in a minute, don’t…” he stops himself and shakes a finger towards her. “You, you just stay here,” he says as he leaves the room. In the hallway, Sofia stands with an elderly gentleman wearing a grey woollen suit. “Are you Kline?” Weite asks.

“Yes, I am, Detective. How is the suspect responding to your inquiries?” he says as he holds out his hand.

“Like a New Year’s Eve party, all the exes are showing up holding grudges over shit long done and dusted. And to make it more fun, they’ve been talking to each other,” Weite replies as he grabs his hand and gives it a strong shake.

“Excuse me, Detective, are you implying they’re talking to each other?”

“I’m not implying shit! I’m telling you that’s what’s happening. Well, all except for Benny. No one’s heard from Benny since the murder. But, as far as I can tell, we’ve had Gloria, Adam, Stuart, Linda, and Stacy in the interview room tonight, and Stacy, well, she’s aware of what we’ve been asking Linda and that we have Benny in custody. But she isn’t aware if we’ve talked to Benny or not, so I’d assume he’s not speaking to anyone. That’s why we need you to give us some wiggle room to work with, Doc. But first up, I’ve gotta know, why the fuck is she out of the institution if she’s this fucked up?”

“Carole suffers from dissociative identity disorder. She’s been in and out of institutions her whole life, opting into any case study or drug trial she could be part of in the hope of ridding herself of this disease. We thought, I thought, this new treatment she had twelve months ago had helped move on all her personalities, leaving only Carole, whole and complete.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, Doc, but she’s not whole and complete anymore, not by a long fucking shot. When was the last time you saw her?”

“It was two weeks ago, and she looked like she was coping amazingly well. In fact, if I think about it now, a little too well, I guess. But it was still only Carole, no one else, and I’ve seen them all, had them all try to pull the wool over my eyes. But that was all they did, they all have their eccentricities, their tells, and I was quite good at picking them. It’s just so unbelievable. I can’t believe she or any of her personalities could kill someone. None of them were ever violent. And this Benny, you say she refers to as being the killer, I can tell you that I’ve never heard about him from the others or seen him manifest before. Are you sure he’s not re…” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, as a loud smashing sound comes from within the interrogation room cutting him off. Weite throws open the door, his revolver at the ready. Carole sits in the centre of the room, her eyes closed, blood running from their corners. The table that was once bolted to the floor hangs halfway through the two-way mirror. Kline nervously steps into the room behind Weite, stumbling backward in shock, clutching his chest.

Carole’s eyes shoot open, and she smiles, “Doc, don’t you go anywhere. Benny’s got a lot of catching up to do with you!” she screams.