Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

The Strobe That Bites

Terry stares intently at the flickering screen, his eyes squinting, lip curled, tongue sticking out, and hands clenched tightly into fists. He leans back, opens his eyes wide, blinking several times, then leans in closer, squinting again before shaking his head with a final sigh as he sits back.

“No,” he says confidently. “I just don’t see it.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I can see it as clear as day,” Chester says, leaning in and nodding.

Terry purses his lips, rubs his nose with the back of his hand, and scratches behind his left ear as he stares halfheartedly at the screen before shaking his head again. “Nope, nothing.”

“Well,” Chester says, raising his eyebrows and taking in a deep breath, “guess you’re in the one percent then.”

“T-T-The one percent, w-w-what does that mean?”

“Well, it means you’re the first goddamn son-of-a-bitch I’ve ever met who can’t see what the screen is showing you.”

“Really?” Terry says with surprise, blinking and rubbing his forehead before running his hand roughly through his hair, scratching his scalp. “I-I-I mean, d-d-does the screen suppose to strobe like that?”

“Strobe?” Chester says, furrowing his brow as he looks at the screen, before taking off his cap and scratching his scalp. “The screen ain’t strobing, never has, not that I know of anyway.”

“W-W-What do people normally see?”

“Shit, people normally see what they want to see, but,” he says, leaning in. “I don’t mean that literally. I mean, what they really want—what they really, really want—is what they see. Some people scream, some people laugh, some have even cried, but they all see what they’re destined to see.”

“M-M-Maybe I’m meant to see s-s-strobing light.”

“Hmmm,” Chester says, pressing a finger against his lips. “Is it like lots of lights, or is it that fuzzy test pattern thing rolling?”

“Y-Y-Yeah, yeah, that—the rolling test pattern thing.”

“Okay, okay,” Chester says with a broad smile. “I have an idea. It’s a little wild, but if you’re up for it, I’d like to give it a go.”

“If you think it’ll work, s-s-sure.”

Chester slaps Terry on the back of the head.

“W-W-WHAT THE FUCK!” Terry cries out, stumbling back, gripping his head.

“Sorry, but you said—”

“It doesn’t matter what I said! You should’ve told me you were gonna FUCKING hit me!”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay, but did it work?”

“Did it work? Did it work?” he spits, casting a wayward glance at the screen, and gasps in horror, his lips trembling as a fresh sea of sweat cascades down his brow. “I-I-I,” he stammers as he loses control of his bladder, emptying its contents down his leg.

Chester smiles broadly, rubbing his hands together. “W-Worth the wait, I take it?”

Terry’s lips tremble, words catching in his throat. He stares at the screen with empty, vacant eyes, his voice barely a whisper. “W-Worth the w-w-wait,” he mumbles.

Chester laughs, a high, jittery sound like a wind-up doll coming undone. “T-T-Tell me—tell me what you saw.”

Terry swallows hard. His mouth opens, closes, then opens again. Finally, after another few failed attempts, the words escape in a shudder. “I-I-I, I saw y-you…standing there, w-w-with a snake—a pale white snake w-w-with red eyes. But y-you’re n-not really holding it. I-I-It’s p-part of you,” he says, staring up into Chester’s hypnotic gaze.

The grin on Chester’s face stretches wider, his eyes glinting with something darker—something Terry hadn’t noticed earlier. He leans in, almost close enough for Terry to smell the stale warmth of his breath. “Good”—he whispers, his voice low and wet. “Then you’re starting to see what’s real.”