Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

An Axe in the Head is Better in Bed

The door splits open with one swift swing of the axe. The head buries itself in the floorboards as Murphy, his grin wicked and wide from ear to ear, drives his foot into the shattered remains—kicking them to the ground. He steps through, curling his snake-like tongue across his lips as he pulls the axe free.

Henry stands in front of Sylvia and Beth, shielding their nakedness with his muscular frame. His erection is still painfully visible. Puffing out his chest, he lifts his chin high, his voice trembling as he says,
“W-What is the meaning of this? I-I-I demand you leave at once!”

Murphy laughs, narrowing his eyes as he mimics Henry. “‘I demand you leave at once! What’s the meaning of this?’” he cackles. He plants the axe on the floor, resting his arms lazily on the handle, his grin broad and mocking. “Why’re you all standing there in your birthday suits, huh?” he asks, gesturing towards them as he pulls a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. Slapping it against his hand, he forces one loose, sticks it between his lips, and lights it with the ease of someone who’s done it a million times. Taking several slow puffs, he exhales with exaggerated satisfaction. “You’re not taking part in some premarital sexual activity, are you?”

“T-T-T-That’s none of your bloody business!” Henry spits, stepping forward and pointing to the door. “N-Now get t-t-the hell out before I throw you out!”

Murphy’s grin stretches impossibly wide, the flesh pulling back to reveal a mouthful of rotten teeth and grey gums. In one fluid motion, he swings the axe through the air, chopping Henry’s head clean from his shoulders. Blood sprays in a crimson wave, drenching the room, the women, and Murphy himself in a sea of red. He laughs loudly as the girls scream. Holding the axe to his lips, he plants a kiss on its glistening blade, now slick with blood.

Sylvia makes a desperate dash for the door but slips in the pool of red coating the floor. She crashes hard, lying dazed for a moment. Before she can recover, Murphy’s axe comes down—splitting her skull like a pumpkin.

Beth stands frozen, screaming uncontrollably as Murphy yanks the axe from Sylvia’s head, flashes her a playful wink, and steps toward her with a chuckle.
“Now, about what you said earlier,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “D-Do you think, maybe we could? You know—try something?”

Beth stares at him, clutching herself tightly, her wide eyes brimming with terror.
“I-I-I—” she stammers, her lips dry as she swallows hard, choking momentarily. Murphy laughs, taking another drag from his cigarette before extending it towards her.

“Go on, take a puff,” he says.

She jerks away, shaking her head violently.
“N-N-No.”

Murphy shrugs, taking a final drag before flicking the cigarette butt to the floor.
“So,” he says, swaying slightly as he takes on the persona of a schoolboy attempting to ask a girl to dance, “what do you think? Wanna come back to my place and meet the others?”

Beth shakes her head, her face twisting into an expression of impossible awkwardness. Murphy’s grin falters, and his grip tightens on the axe.

Her eyes widen as she gasps, taking a cautious step back.

Murphy swings the axe high, but the blade glances off the edge of the doorframe—embedding deep in the wooden wall. He struggles to wrench it free, growling curses under his breath. Beth’s eyes widen, and she leaps forward, raking his face and eyes with her fingernails. He cries out in pain and delight, a smile spreading wide across his face—but his brow furrows as he reels backwards. She grabs the axe handle, pulling on it desperately, finally yanking it free from the wall. But Murphy, his face wild and torn, lunges at her, his fingers digging into her arm. Screaming in terror, she twists wildly, swinging the axe. The blade slams into the side of his head with a wet thud, splitting his skull open with a sickening crunch. Flesh, bone, and a sea of red spray across the room.

For a few silent moments, Murphy stands gasping for air, half his head missing. The remaining half of his face stares blankly with wide, surprised eyes. He gasps again, desperately trying to speak, and then collapses in a bloody heap.

Tears stream down Beth’s face as she sinks to her knees, trembling—her naked form drenched from head to toe in red.