Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

In the Corner of Thy Eye

His lips curl, and his left eye twitches. He turns quickly to the left, then to the right, eyeing the mirror each time he passes, hoping—praying—to see whatever it is that lurks behind him. But, as always, there is nothing. He grips the sink and growls, clenching his teeth tightly, staring viciously into his own eyes. Then, before casting a sideways glance to his left, he closes them and takes a deep breath. He trembles as his eyes strain towards the corners of their sockets, while his head remains perfectly still.

At first, there’s nothing—but then, as the moments stretch on, he notices strands of long hair twisting and turning in on themselves, fighting against a wind that isn’t there. He forces his eyes further into their corners, as he spies a blanket of hair—on the side of a dead face—and then, as he takes a breath that does not continue, he locks eyes with an eye, looking back at him, staring, unmoving, unflinching. The blackened lips of a long-dead face creep into a smile, and he inhales again, building upon the breath already lodged in his lungs.

“W-W-W-Who are y-y-you?” he stammers, tears streaming down his face.

The eye blinks, but that’s the only response. He shifts his gaze back to his reflection and bares his teeth.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” he screams, slamming a fist into the mirror, sending a rippling crack through its surface. A trickle of blood runs down it. He hisses—and pulls back his fist, staring at the shards embedded in his flesh as blood quickly washes over his hand. His nose twitches, and his lips quiver as he peers over his shoulder, his head still unmoving. He sees the forest of hair, and then the hateful eye. Its lips form a wide grin, revealing rotting, yellow teeth clenched together.

“T-T-TELL ME!” he bellows.

The eye widens, and the head tilts—more of her face falling into view until both of her dead, pale eyes are visible.

His lips tremble, and fresh tears spill down his cheeks.

“T-T-T-Tabitha,” he stammers. The smile on her lips grows, and the fire of hate in her eyes intensifies. “B-B-But you’re d-d-dead,” he whimpers.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she steps from beyond the corner of his vision and into plain sight. Her haggard frame withers, and her face twists as the weight of time and decay rapidly catches up with her. She glares at him, her lips twisted and her eyes bulging. She points at him with bony fingers and snarls.

“Y-Y-You,” she grunts. “Y-You,” she growls again.

He stares at her in bewilderment, but slowly, a wide smile spreads across his face, and he begins to laugh. “ME!” he bellows proudly.

“Y-Y-YOU d-did this! Y-Y-You k-k-killed—” But she doesn’t get to finish, as he backhands her away, a beaming smile on his lips.

“Oh yes! Oh yes indeed!” he says as he pulls an eight-inch blade from a knife kit lying open on the bed. “And I’m going to have so much fun doing it again!” he says excitedly.

She twists and turns, moving in a way one should not move—like an animated character, missing several frames here and there.

“STOP MOVING AROUND, BITCH, AND TAKE WHAT YOU’VE GOT COMING TO YOU, AGAIN!” he spits.

She tilts her head, staring at him. “Y-You, c-c-can’t e-e-escape us,” she stammers, tilting her head to the other side.

“You can’t stop me, I’ve killed you once, and I’ll ki…” His words catch in his throat. “D-D-Did you say, u-u-us?” he stammers as he notices, in the corner of his eye, hair blowing around in a wind that isn’t there.