Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Date Night

He sits across from her, looking into her eyes, and she smiles as she gently dabs the serviette on her mouth.

“What?” she asks.

“What?”

“What are you staring at?”

“You,” he says with a smile as he leans onto the table, making her blush. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To look at each other, to see if we’re the real deal or not.”

“I guess. It’s just, well, I’ve never had anyone say the things you say to me. It’s a bit unusual.”

“You’re a beautiful woman. I’m just telling you the truth.”

She laughs. “I’ve been on seventeen of these dates, and no one has been as up front and, well, as nice as you. So tell me, why are you still on the market? What’s your fault?”

He laughs and leans back in his chair. “We’re already to that part of the night?”

“That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?” she says with a cheeky grin.

“Touché,” he says with a laugh. “Okay, honestly, I haven’t found the right person, the right companion. I’ve been looking, but it’s always in the wrong spot. That’s why I’m here, doing this, trying to find Miss Right.”

“You’ve practiced that one, haven’t you?”

“Well,” he says as he leans back on the table again, “like you, I’ve done this too many times to count, so yeah, it’s a little practiced. But it’s true. I’m looking for that person who can make me feel part of something special, not just another fling. I want someone who will make every day worth it. So, now your turn. Why are you here?”

“The same reason, I guess—looking for the one. I had him once, but it ended badly, and I’ve been searching ever since, hoping one day to find it again. But all I ever seem to find are sleazebags and no-hopers.”

He laughs. “Isn’t that generally what single men are?”

“You don’t seem to be one,” she says with a smile.

“I could be. Anyone can. But forgive me for being forward like this, but I like you. You seem normal, interesting, and that’s what gets me—the interest.”

“The challenge?”

He laughs. “I’m not really into challenges; I’m into people. So no, not a challenge, just an interest.”

“Well, I’m glad I interest you. So, do we leave, or do we sit and make more small talk?”

“Well, if you’re finished. You don’t want dessert?”

“Oh no, that was more than I wanted to eat anyway,” she says as she gets up from her seat. After they go to the counter and fight over who’s paying the bill, they walk out into the night air.

“Well, it’s been an enjoyable evening,” he says with a smile. “I’d really like to do this again.”

“Do you say that every time as well?”

He laughs. “No, very rarely.”

“Well then, I’d love to. When?”

“Friday?”

“I’m busy Friday. Sunday?”

“Sunday I’m going to my friend’s to watch the game. What about Saturday?”

“Saturday I’m busy in the afternoon, but if we catch up around seven, I can do that!”

“Seven it is,” he says with a smile. “Where are you parked?”

“Oh, I’m not parked. I live eight blocks that way, so I’m just going to walk,” she says, pointing down through an alleyway.

He looks at her and pulls his jacket on. “No one in their right mind would let someone as lovely as you walk home alone. Please, let me give you a lift.”

“I’m fine, really. I walk it all the time.”

“Please, I want to. I promise my hands will be on the wheel at all times, and I’m not some wacko serial killer.”

She smiles. “Okay, but really, I can walk.”

“I won’t have it,” he says as they walk to his car and climb in. He looks over at her and smiles as he starts the engine and all the doors lock. “I sort of lied back there, about keeping my hands on the steering wheel.”

She laughs nervously. “I thought you were going to tell me you were a serial killer, which would’ve been crazy.”

“Crazy? I just said I’m not going to keep my hands to myself. Aren’t you worried?”

She laughs louder. “No, if you were a serial killer, then maybe. But only because it would’ve been one of those freaky things that happen from time to time. You know, a coincidence.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

She pulls a taser out from her bag and zaps him into unconsciousness. “What I’m talking about, dear Freddie, is how funny it would’ve been if we both ended up being serial killers.”