Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Lies Sink Ships

“I-I-I, I NEED MORE TIME!” Sammy yells.

“I’ve given you more time than any other moment you’ve ever been given, Sammy. I don’t think I can give you any more, not now, not ever. Give me an answer, pluck it out of the air for all I care, but give me one!”

“RED! The colour of Luca’s shirt was red!” he yells.

Silence follows for a few moments before Sammy feels the blade of the knife cut through his finger, and he screams in agony.

“So close. So very, very close. But his shirt was orange. Brian’s shirt was red, Sammy, remember?”

“FUCK YOU!” Sammy yells.

“Please, Sammy, when you undertook this research position, you did promise that the language would be kept to a minimum. Yelling out horrid words such as ‘fuck’ is frowned upon by the people who pay my wages. So if you could keep to the agreement and refrain from such toilet language, it would be greatly appreciated.”

“T-T-T-This wasn’t what I signed up for! I want out! I WANT OUT!”

He smiles. “That is totally understandable; you have suffered several failures already,” he says, nodding towards Sammy’s bloody hand.

“THEN LET ME OUT!” Sammy screams, his face flushed, veins sticking up across his forehead and neck.

“Of course, just give me the safe word,” he says with a smile.

“S-S-S-Safe word?” Sammy stutters.

“Yes, the safe word. Surely you remember that it was all part of the contract you signed. To gain early release, you must be able to recite the safe word. Failure to do so will result in you forfeiting a question.”

“W-W-What the fuck does that mean, forfeit a question?”

He smiles. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

Sammy stares at him in panic and down at his mutilated hand.

“So, do you know the safe word, or do I continue on to the next question?”

Sammy’s lips tremble as his mind searches through its memories. Visualising the contract, he feverishly reads through it until he comes to a six-letter word that causes him to breathe a sigh of relief.

“POPPER!” Sammy yells out proudly, darting a look of defiance towards him as his smile fades from his face. “Now let me the FUCK OUT!”

“Popper?” The man repeats as he runs a trembling hand through his hair, giggling softly to himself.

“You heard me. POPPER is the safe word, right? It has to be!”

“POPPER!” The man screams as he erupts into fits of laughter. “POPPER!” he yells again before grabbing Sammy by the hair and pulling his head back, stretching his neck out. He then lightly runs the blade across it. “Popper is not the safe word, Sammy. But it was a good try,” he says, chopping the blade down like an axe and slicing off another finger, causing Sammy to scream out in agony again.

“Three chances down, Sammy!” he says as he slithers over him like a snake and hisses in his ear. “How many more can you afford to lose?”

“F-F-FUCK YOU!” Sammy screams back in defiance.

“So, should we try the next question?” he says, smiling as he places the knife’s blade against Sammy’s index finger. “Or do you want to try for the safe word again?”