Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

A Mind for Your Own Business

Its grotesque form arches back, revealing a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. Sheila stares in silent horror, her broken body trapped in its unrelenting embrace. Her eyes glaze over, her mouth hangs open, and her life spirals downward.
She sways in its grip. Her lips quiver—there’s a faint flicker of life sparking within her—until the creature strikes. Its teeth sink into her skull, gorging itself on the river of red spilling out. It pauses for a moment, then strikes again, snapping through flesh and bone. It peels off the top of her head as one might crack the shell of a boiled egg.

Ten or more tendril-like tongues charge from its mouth and slither into the skull cavity, scooping out her brain and swallowing it whole. They twist and turn their way through the orifices and cavities, cleaning out the organs and fatty tissue. When it finishes, it discards the meaty husk that was once Sheila, letting her collapse to the ground in a wet, bloody heap.

From the street, Trevor gasps in horror, grabbing himself in shock. The creature turns toward him, its black, soulless eyes glinting. His wide eyes grow wider still, and he wets himself almost instantly.

The creature growls, its throat vibrating with a guttural hiss before expelling a viscous webbing. The sticky strands shoot toward Trevor, striking him like cricket balls and knocking him to the ground. He screams, clawing at the web as he tries to scramble to his feet.

But the creature leaps from the alleyway, landing atop him. Its lips stretch impossibly wide, saliva dripping in thick ropes from engorged glands.

A car’s headlights paint them in a blinding glow. The horn screams, tires screech—and then the vehicle slams into Trevor and the creature in a mess of red and black.

Trevor hits the asphalt with a sickly splat, the breath knocked out of him, his body a kingdom of pain. He grimaces, writhing in agony as he shifts his blurred vision toward the creature. It writhes violently, jerking from side to side, a clicking, hissing sound emanating from it—almost insect-like.

The car idles silently for a moment, smoke billowing from its engine in a thick cloud. The headlights flicker, halfheartedly illuminating the carnage. Behind the wheel, the driver sits frozen, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, their heart pounding erratically.

The creature rises, its chest splitting open. Tendrils shoot out, wrapping around the car, and it pulls itself upright. It roars again—a guttural, ear-splitting sound—and the driver screams. They fumble out of the car, stumbling to the ground.

For a brief moment, Trevor locks eyes with the driver. They stand frozen, silently exchanging the weight of their fear.

It is then that Trevor realises he’s standing—not lying broken on the ground, but upright beside the car. His chest heaves, his lips quiver. He looks down at his own body sprawled in the distance, lifeless eyes staring blankly into the void.

“W-W-What the fuck?” he stammers, but the time to process the last few moments isn’t available as the creature strikes, wrapping him in its suffocating embrace.