Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

A Cleaver is the Key to the Skull

Brian’s empty gaze stares off into the distance as his body drops, slapping the floor like a wet piece of clothing. A pool of red quickly grows around him from a sizeable, crimson gash at the back of his skull.

Stewart smiles and gently nods his head in satisfaction, curling his lips and casting a wayward glance at the petrified Michelle. His grip tightens on the bloody cleaver he holds proudly in his hands.

Her trembling fingers cup her face as she sobs uncontrollably. He nods again and turns his attention back to the body.

“He’s a good choice—big muscles, an alluring smile, and an ample package to keep the women happy. I can see why you chose him. And don’t worry, the damage we’ve done today will be minimal at best,” he says, sawing the cleaver idly through the air. “Nothing that will be noticeable to the outside world. Maybe you’ll need to relearn a few things, but most of my clients only have small hurdles to overcome in the first few days. I can assure you the biggest problems you’ll face will come later—when someone recognises you.”

“R-R-Recognise me? B-B-But you said you’d vetted him, and he had no attachments. Y-You said he was completely alone in the w-world! I-I-I paid good money, and I was ensured that you operated with a one-hundred-percent guarantee, and that all my expectations would be fulfilled without fear of being found out! I-Is this still the case, or am I mistaken?”

Stewart holds up a hand to calm her and smiles gently. “You are not mistaken. We,” he says, patting his chest several times, “I have never had any of our clients come into contact with a situation we weren’t prepared for. Everything we, everything I do is methodical—I leave no stone unturned. But, as I’m sure you understand, there’s no such thing as one-hundred-percent certainty. Someone, somewhere, might crawl out of the woodwork. When that happens, you’ll need to know how to handle it. You’ll need to know the protocol because one wrong move could endanger everything you’ve worked so hard to keep, all that is outlined in the videos and literature we’ll provide you with while you’re recovering from the process.”

He says with a broad smile upon his lips, as he grips Brian’s corpse by the back of the neck and hoists it up onto his shoulder. “Now, we can stand around here talking about hypotheticals all day, but, while we are doing that, many important factors are taking place, the most important one of all is that our friend here will have degraded to the point where he will be of no good to anyone—and you’ll be back at the start, and any money you’ve already paid, of course, won’t be refunded.”

“Y-Y-You can’t do that. I-I had an agreement. I was told—”

Stewart thrusts his face into hers, his sneer cutting her off. “Lady, I can do anything I fucking like. You paid for a service, and I’m delivering it. Back out, and you forfeit the fees. Challenge me, and I’ll happily take it wherever you like, but I guarantee you—it’ll hold up. Now, are we going to pull that psychotic brain of yours out of your ditzy little head and put it into this muscle-bound buffoon, or am I going to be disposing of two bodies tonight instead of one?”

She swallows nervously, her face drained of colour as her knees wobble. She stumbles momentarily, then steadies herself with a deep breath. A forced smile spreads across her lips as she brushes back her hair and nods. “O-Okay. L-Let’s do it.”

Stewart smiles broadly and grips her powerfully by the shoulder. “That’s the spirit! Let’s get you that new you.”