Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

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

This is my submission for the Only Murders In My Mind Weekly Writing Prompt.

A Hidden Ruse

Sharon grips the gun’s handle and tightens her finger around its trigger as her lips curl, and the true entity that hides behind her old eyes finally shows its form.

“How did you know it was me?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I-I, I didn’t,” Clifford stammers nervously, as a sea of sweat runs down his forehead, washing over him like a wave at the beach.

She muffles a laugh. “You mean to tell me I just outed myself for no reason?”

He nods his head.

“You honestly had no idea it was me?” she asks, thrusting the pistol in his face. He shakes his head vigorously as the strong, pungent smell of urine fills her nostrils. She screws up her face and rolls her eyes in bewilderment. “What sort of government sends an agent like you for a case like this?”

“I-I-I, I’m not a-a-a…” he stammers desperately as he begins sobbing uncontrollably.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” she bellows as she throws her head back. “YOU’RE NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE HERE, ARE YOU?”

He nods his head vigorously.

She digs the pistol’s barrel into his chin and forces his eyes to meet hers. “Do you even work for the government?”

His face screws up, and a fresh sea of tears streams down his face as he shakes his head.

She stumbles backwards in disbelief. “I-I-I, I can’t believe I-I, I revealed myself to some, some, some hack wannabe detective!”

“I-I-I, I’m s-s-s-sorry,” he sobs loudly.

“Oh, you will be,” she grunts as she storms at him and pushes him against the wall, digging the pistol into his side. “Who else did you tell? Who else knows you’re here?”

“N-N-No one!” he stammers.

“Bullshit, someone must know, someone must care where you are!” she spits.

He shakes his head, “N-No one c-c-cares w-where I a-a-am, n-n-no one.”

Her brow furrows, and her bottom lip tightens. “No one?”

“N-N-No one,” he sobs.

“Really?”

He nods his head again, as the tears drip from his face like rain from the sky.

“So no one’s going to come looking for you? No one’s going to miss you?”

“N-N-No one,” he sobs.

“What about a pet? Do you have a pet you need to feed?”

“N-N-N-NO!” he cries. “I-I-I, I c-c-an’t have pets i-i-in my flat!”

She takes a step back and stares at him curiously. “What’s wrong with you?”

“W-W-W-What d-d-do you mean?”

“I mean, what’s your problem? Why don’t you have friends? Why don’t you have a life?”

“I-I-I, I don’t know, I-I-I, I just never had time.”

“Never had time? Who never has time? What do you do that doesn’t give you time to have a life?”

“I-I-I, I d-d-don’t understand,” he stammers.

She jams the pistol into his side again and snarls. “YOU DON’T NEED TO UNDERSTAND, JUST ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION! WHAT DO YOU DO THAT DOESN’T ALLOW YOU TIME FOR A LIFE?”

“I-I-I, I d-d-don’t know! I-I-I, I can’t think w-w-with a-a-all this p-p-pressure,” he stammers nervously.

She rolls her eyes, sighs loudly, and takes a few steps back. “MY GOD! NO WONDER YOU DON’T HAVE ANY FRIENDS!” she grumbles loudly. “Here,” she says as she places the pistol on the table to her left. “Does this make it less stressful?” she says sarcastically as she turns back to Clifford, who holds a pistol of his own towards her, a broad smile across his lips.

“Yes, yes it does,” he says proudly.

“Son of a bitch,” she hisses under her breath.