Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Digging a Hole for Mister Frog

Silas lets another disgruntled grunt escape his lips as he digs the blunt blade of the spade into the dry earth. He throws his head back in frustration and thrusts his hand into his back. “I am too old for this, Mister Frog. Maybe you need someone younger, yes?” he cries out, casting a tired glance over to Mister Frog, who stands in his designer pinstriped suit, smoking an enormous Cuban cigar.

Mister Frog blows a sea of smoke from his mouth and smiles a mouthful of gold. “You’d be surprised what the kids of today have to offer, Silas, my old friend. You’re a dying kind, a true worker. I’d need seven young men at a start, and even then, I’m not sure that would be enough.”

Silas lets another sigh escape his lips, nodding his head as he looks down at the hole, then over to his welted, bloody hands, and finally back to Mister Frog. “I see your dilemma, Mister Frog, I do, and it pains me in many ways. But Silas—he’s too old for this. For you, I do this last hole for free. But after the hole is dug, and the goods are retrieved from the worthless dead, I am no more.”

“What will you do? How will you pay for all the habits you and your whore, Anistasia, have developed over the years?”

“We’ll manage. We’ve turned the ship around, withdrawn, no more dragon riding.”

Mister Frog laughs softly. “Are you trying to tell me you two are clean?”

Silas shrugs his shoulders, waving his hand from side to side and squinting his left eye. “Not clean, but not dirty anymore.”

“You’re either a user, or you’re not, Silas. There is no in-between.”

“Not for a big man like you who doesn’t understand work. Silas works hard his whole life—callous upon callous. Blister upon blister. My deeds are red and wicked; many things I forget, not because I have to, but because it’s the only way I’ll sleep. So, Mister Frog, I’m cleaner than I was the day before today, and tomorrow, I’ll be cleaner still.”

“And your whore? What of her?”

Silas smiles broadly. “She’s clean, as am I. It’s a deed done together. We are the rock for the order.”

“That’s so sweet,” Mister Frog scoffs, placing both hands over his chest and pressing them down. “I wish I had known all this before. It would’ve saved a whole range of emotions we’re about to go through.”

“Emotions?” Silas asks, his brow furrowing and his eyes widening with curiosity.

“Yeah, emotions, you know, those fuckin’ annoying things that keep us up at night sometimes.”

“I—I, I know what emotions are, Mister Frog, I—I—I just don’t know why we need to be talking about them now!”

Mister Frog smiles from ear to ear. “Because, Silas, emotions make us better—and sometimes worse. For you, today, they’re going to fuck you right up.”

“W-w-what have you done to m-my flower, M-Mister F-Frog? W-w-where is s-she?” Silas asks, his lips trembling.

Mister Frog casually lifts his wrist and looks at the watch that adorns it, then sorrowfully back down to Silas. “If you don’t start digging faster, I’m afraid a very bad thing is going to befall her,” he says, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.