Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

We Love You Gordon

He crosses his legs, looks over the small group gathered in front of him, and smiles, leaning back in the chair. He takes a moment to capture everything in his mind.

“Well, aren’t you all the lucky ones,” he says, a smug smile upon his face. “Out of the tens of thousands who fought for this experience, you, my chosen few, are the mighty victors—those deemed worthy of the chance to touch minds not only with what some may refer to as a literary genius. But that is not all, my frightful friends. You are here to also record this meeting for the world—to paint an envious picture with words, so those who failed can writhe in their failures.”

“We love you, GORDON!” a voice screams out of the crowd.

His smile broadens. “Of course, you do. You all do, and I love you all as well. That’s why you’re here,” he says as he leans forward. “Now, who here wants to hear something new? Who here wants to witness the birth of a new kind of tale—a new beginning?”

The group cheers with excitement, and his smile widens. “That’s what I thought. You see, tonight is about sharing something with you all. Sharing a story that will sound impossible but is all true. A story that will leave you feeling mesmerised after hearing it.”

He leans back and squeezes his fingers together, fingertip by fingertip. “Seventeen nights ago, in the dead of night, I awoke to a sound. At first, I believed it to be nothing, but my mind started playing tricks on me, for I had never slept in this room before—nor have I since that night. I wearily looked around the darkened room, my eyes unable to focus as the light was almost non-existent. And of course, I was still half-asleep. Then I heard it—a deep, inhuman growl—and I was instantly awake, shaking with fear.”

He looks around at the faces as they stare, wide-eyed, toward him, each one a fish, hooked on his every word.

“I nervously called out, asking if anyone was there, but received no answer—except for the low, otherworldly growl. I called out again, threatening this time, trying to disguise my fear with fear itself. That’s when it answered. ‘Hello, Douglas,’ the voice said, husky, sharp, like fingernails on a blackboard.”

Gasps leap from the mouths of those trapped in his words. “I was beside myself, and I am proud to admit that in my fear, I felt my bladder give way, emptying its contents into my underwear, which quickly soaked through my pyjamas and into my sheets. I gulped, trying to catch a breath, as my body refused to do any of its natural tasks, caught up in the fear that now controlled my every waking moment. I clutched at my bedsheets and stuttered my next words, asking who it was and how it knew my name.”

“I received a hackle of laughter as my reply. Then it spoke again, ‘You know who I am, and how I know your name,’ it said. My mind raced with its answer. How could I possibly know who this intruder was and how they knew my name? I squeezed my eyes shut as they slowly became more accustomed to the darkness, but it was no use. My room could’ve been on the other side of hell for all I knew by now.”

He feels sweat slowly running down his brow, quickly pulls a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, and dabs his forehead. “I told him I had no idea who he was and that he had better leave, or I would be forced to get the police involved. As I said this, I reached for my mobile phone. The sod laughed as a burning chill went down my spine. I found my phone was not where I had placed it.”

“He told me there was no such escape—there would be no police, no interference. The slimy thing between the here and the there then told me that tonight I was going to be his audience—for he had a tale to tell me, a tale that, once heard, I would need to share with the world. I scoffed at his request and told him I was no tool to be used, especially considering he was taking me hostage in my own home.”

He stops, grips his knees tightly, and wipes his sweaty palms up his legs until they rest in his lap. His bottom lip trembles, and he peers off into the darkness of the room beyond, while everyone remains silent. Finally, one of the group calls out.

“W-W-What happened next?”

Gordon looks down at the man, his eyes black pools of emptiness, his skin decaying. He smiles a wide, toothy smile. “The story happened next,” he says as everything turns black.