Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Happens Every Day

“A wet dream’s nightmare, that’s what I’d call that!” Emerson says, laughing hysterically as he can no longer hold it in.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh! You promised!”

“Yeah, and you said you’d tell me a story I wouldn’t believe. Seems like we both lied; shit like that happens every day!”

“Seriously? You think stuff like this happens every day?”

“Sure, I’ve seen it at least twice so far this week, and I haven’t left the house for over a month, except for today of course,” Emerson says, flashing a mouthful of rotten teeth.

“Bullshit!”

“What, you calling me a liar now, French-Fry?”

“Yes, I fucking am! Things do not happen like this every day! This is, like, so not everyday shit!”

“Right, you just stay over there and keep telling yourself that, while I keep myself over here in reality.”

“I knew you’d be a dick about all this. GOD! I don’t even know why I came to you about it.”

Emerson leans forward and squints his eyes, smiling a thin, pursed smile. “You came to me because I’m the only crazy motherfucker around here who’d believe the shit that’s running from your mouth right now, that’s why!” he says, leaning back proudly and crossing his arms across his chest.

Stuart sits there staring at Emerson for a few moments before his shoulders drop and his face relaxes. “I guess.”

“Good, accepting that I’m not only on top of the list, but that I AM the list, is a perfect place to start.”

“What do you mean start?”

“Well, you came to me with this crazy arsed story about your next-door neighbour being a vampire, you must have some end result planned.”

“End result?”

“Yeah, like what the fuck do you want to do about the old blood sucker?”

“Do about him?”

“Yeah, that’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”

“I-I-I, I think you got confused partway through the story,” Stuart says as his lip trembles nervously.

“Confused? How confused is you rushing to my house, demanding to be let in, and then telling me this almost unbelievable story about how your next-door neighbour is a vampire and he threatened to turn you into one if you told anyone?”

“See there, that’s the spot you’re confused.”

“What, he didn’t threaten you?”

“Oh no, he did threaten me, just not if I told anyone, only if I told you.”

“Told me? Why just me?”

“Seems the old hag has something hard in his basement for you. The old fucker couldn’t stop talking about you. He said you had something to do with the death of his daughters.”

Emerson’s eyes widen with surprise as his mouth slowly opens, his trembling fingers moving to his lips. “Voight,” he whispers.

“That’s him, I’m sure he’ll be glad to know you didn’t forget his name.”

“W-W-W-What ar…” he stops mid-sentence as the last hour rushes before his eyes, the panicked knock on the door as Stuart desperately pleads for him to let him in. The hiss of his voice. The twisted smile. The dark rings under his eyes. The paleness of his skin, all these things and many others he initially mistook as fear. Slowly his eyes come to rest upon Stuart’s neck, and the puncture marks. His eyes travel up the dark veins that run along his throat, past his toothy smile, and come to a stop upon his red, bloodshot eyes.

“He wanted you to realise before I killed you that it was him who did all this,” Stuart says.

“You’re half right, but only about him wanting me to know it was him,” he says, as he feels the tears well up.