Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

The Deceiving Eyes

The door to the cage drops open, and he scurries to the back, cowering in fear, waiting for hands that do not come to reach in and grab him. Minutes pass in silence as his eyes pierce through the darkness, desperately searching for whoever opened the cage, but they do not show themselves.

“H-H-Hello?” he whispers, but no reply comes forth. Slowly, he makes his way towards the door, warily looking out, searching again for anyone hiding in the darkness, waiting to strike. But the room seems empty. Then he hears a voice—a voice that sends a shiver down his spine.

“Do not fear, Maven. I have come to save your soul,” the voice hisses. Maven rushes once again to the back of the cage and curls himself up into a ball.

“W-W-Who are y-y-you?”

“Are we going to go through this again? Does it matter who I am?” the voice replies.

“O-O-Of course it—W-W-What do you mean, go through this a-a-again? W-W-Why don’t you show yourself?”

“Honestly, we don’t need to have this conversation. The door to your prison is open and freedom is in your grasp. Why question it? Why not seize the moment and make your escape?”

“B-B-Because I don’t know what’s real anymore. T-T-The things they’ve done—t-t-t-t—”

“Please,” the voice interrupts, “Stop your stammering. Yes, they’ve done some horrible things to you—they’ve done horrible things to plenty of others as well, but—” The voice pauses as a large bladed knife drops out of the darkness and falls to the floor before him, sticking into the wood. It vibrates from side to side until it eventually sits silent and still before him, standing proudly like a tree.

“W-W-What?” he whispers nervously.

“Oh for God’s sake, MAVEN!” the voice booms, like fingernails running along a blackboard. “Kill them. KILL THEM ALL!”

“I-I-I—I can’t,” he whispers.

“Of course you can. It’s easy. You just need to crawl out of that pathetic cage, take the knife by its handle, and kill them all. Job done.”

“W-W-Why don’t you kill them? W-W-W-Why does it always have to be me? Why can’t you do your own dirty work for once?”

“Ah, so, your memory has come back?”

“I-I-I—It was always there,” Maven says, his voice breaking mid-sentence into a nervous high-pitched squeal.

“You lied?”

“Y-Y-Yes, I lied.”

“Why? What do you get out of lying? There’s nothing to be gained from lying to me. We are kindred, Maven—friends, compatriots in a world that has no place for us. Why lie to me?”

“B-B-Because I’m tired of you doing this to me. A-A-A—At first, it was f-f-fun, but now, now I’d rather you find someone else to do your dirty work. I-I-I—I just want to be left alone.”

“You seriously don’t want to play anymore?” the voice asks.

“I never wanted to play, Jules. You just wouldn’t listen. You never listen,” Maven says as he collapses against the back of the cage.

“Y-Y-You’re not going to tell Mum, are you?” Jules asks as she steps out of the shadows.