Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

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

This is my submission for Kevin’s No Theme Thursday.

A Song Sung in Green

As he presses the shell gently to his ear, he hears the sea sing its song, calling Peter by name, calling him home. His eyes glaze over, and a twisted smile winds across his lips as a warm stream of urine runs down his leg. The shell falls from his hands to the sand below while a putrid green ooze begins to drip slowly from his ear.

Jane tilts her head slightly to the side as she watches from a few metres away, squinting her eyes into narrow slits and shielding the sun’s glare with a flat hand.

“PETER!” she calls, waiting several seconds longer than she can bear before calling again. “PETER! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

But he stands there, unaware, oblivious to her words, as his intense gaze sails out across the crashing waves and into the depths of the waters beyond. Within seconds, she is by his side, gripping him by the arms and frantically turning him to face her panicked cries.

“PETER!” she yells. “PETER! WHAT’S WRONG?”

His eyes hang limp in their sockets, and his tongue gently rolls out of his open mouth. Jane screams in horror and shoves him away as a sea of green mist sprays into the air. Peter’s lifeless frame hits the sand like a sack of potatoes and lies silent and still.

“D-DUNCAN!” she screams as she frantically wipes the green gunk from her face. Within seconds, he is at her side, and she buries herself in his arms, wailing like a madwoman.

“W-WHAT’S GOING ON? W-WHAT’S WRONG?”

“PETER, THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG W-WITH PETER!” she screams as she grabs and pulls Duncan in tight.

“P-Peter?” Duncan stammers as he looks down at his son’s lifeless form. “P-P-Peter, son, answer me!”

But no answer comes, only the crashing waves against the beach and the uncontrollable sobbing of Jane as she pushes herself further into his arms.

“PLEASE!” she screams frantically. “PLEASE!” she repeats once more.

Duncan fights his way free and moves her out of his way, then kneels gently by his son’s side, a look of sorrow and dismay painted across his trembling face. He takes a deep breath and counts down from five before rolling him over, only to have the very same breath catch in his chest when he stares into the empty sockets where his son’s eyes once were. Suddenly, his stomach churns, and he has little time to stop the sea of vomit that explodes from his mouth. He tries in vain to heave it to the side, but the bile he spews splashes over his son’s remains like the lapping waves against the shore.

“W-What t-the FUCK happened?” he slurs as he drags his hand across his dripping mouth. “W-What t-the FUCK happened to our so—” But his words catch in his throat as he turns to Jane, finding her empty stare gazing at him. His eyes widen in panic as he leaps to his feet and backs away frantically. “J-J-Jane?” he stammers nervously.

Her mouth opens wide as her head drops to the side, and a gurgling sound bubbles up from her stomach. His brow furrows, and he slowly leans in, nearing closer and closer, leading with his ear, as the gurgling intensifies. Then, when he’s close enough to almost touch, a spray explodes out—green, putrid, and sticky. He screams, he cries, rolling around on the sand, tearing at his hair, tearing at his face. He leaps up and howls at the moon, then drops to his knees, staring at the sky with an empty gaze as his mouth falls open.