Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

The Larman

Jerry drags the well-worn toothbrush across his teeth with little care, spreading the white paste across his face. A disgruntled breath thrusts itself from his nose, and he arches his head towards the roof, blinking half-heartedly. He spits the foamy residue from his mouth and turns the tap on. Water gushes from the faucet and splashes against the sink’s porcelain base, running around the rim like a wave. He lets out another breath and closes his eyes for a few moments, then takes a deep breath and opens his eyes once again, staring into the eyes of the parasite that gently suckles on the side of his skull. It stares at him with its wide, empty eyes, almost unaware of his presence, even though it gladly feeds off him.

Jerry smiles half-heartedly and screws his nose up before shaking his head softly and gripping the sink. “I’ve decided that today’s the day you and I part ways, little fella,” he wearily says. “So, you better get your fill of me before it’s too late, because once this gravy train is over, there ain’t no coming back for more,” he spits as he screws his face up into a twisted façade and nods at his reflection with gusto. But, as always, the creature shows no awareness of Jerry’s words or existence.

He grins awkwardly and takes another deep breath as he tightens his grip on the rim of the sink. “I know, you’re wondering how a gutless piece of shit like me is going to get up the nerve to take himself out of the picture. Well,” he says, as his grin grows broader, “I’ve got a plan that can’t go wrong,” he adds as he thrusts his thumbs towards himself.

The creature suckles, as it always does, without care or attention, staring off into whatever place, whatever world, the delicacies of human endorphins and hormones take it.

Jerry squints an eye and runs his tongue around in his mouth. “Claudette helped me. You remember her, right? She’s the nice girl across the hall, the one who—the one who—” He finds his words caught in his throat and swallows as a single tear rolls down his cheek. “S-S-She’s the one who killed herself two n-n-nights ago.”

For the first time, since the parasite attached itself to the side of his head, it reacts. Its eyes move slowly and fall upon Jerry’s reflection. They grow wide and clear. It pulls back and releases its hold upon him. It looks at Jerry, tilting its head from side to side, studying him.

“S-S-She i-i-i-is d-d-dead?” it asks, its words fractured and disoriented.

He frowns and nods his head, looking down at the sink.

“I-I-I-I, I e-e-enjoyed h-h-h-her company.”

“Claudette,” Jerry says as he looks up and stares hatefully at the parasite, “or her parasite?”

Its eyes open wide, while Jerry smiles smugly.

“That’s what I thought!” Jerry snarls as a bag is thrust over the parasite, pulling it from Jerry’s back. The creature screams, thrashes about as it tries to escape, as it tries to fight back. But Jerry drives boot after boot into the bag, stomping the parasite until it is a pile of mush.

He looks up with a haggard grin upon his face, and nods gently at his reflection, while the creature continues to suckle upon him. He picks up his well-worn toothbrush and drags it across his teeth with little care, spreading the white paste across his face.