Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Dancing with Uniformed Purpose 

Blood spatters across the grass, spraying from the deep cuts left by the blades. Kevin stumbles back, his arms up, as he tries to fend off another hit. The three dead-eyed youths circle him, their sewn-shut grins stretching wider, uglier. The knives look like they’ve been jammed in by some hack with a sewing kit. He takes a sharp breath as they begin darting left and right in an almost choreographed sequence. He purses his lips and raises an eyebrow. They part, and a light—deliberately placed, it seems—shines down on a figure standing tall and proud, a top hat and cane completing its striking look. 

“What a nice night for a walk in the park, eh?” he asks. 

“T-T-They attacked me. B-B-Be careful,” Kevin stammers. 

The man laughs. “They are no danger to me, for I am the one who gave them this new lease on life. Before me, they were trash—lost to the streets, forgotten by today’s world. I gave them shape, gave them purpose.” 

Kevin’s face twists in shock. “W-What?” he stammers, but before he can react, the youths lunge at him again. Blades flash and slice, relentless in their assault. He throws his arms up, trying to fend them off, but their blows land faster than he can deflect. A savage swipe catches his hand, severing two fingers clean off. He shrieks, stumbling back as blood sprays from the mangled stumps. 

Another youth strikes low, slashing through his boot, and Kevin feels a sharp, sickening pain as his toes are sliced away. He cries out, but the assault doesn’t stop. A third blade hacks across his face, ripping flesh from his cheek and tearing away half an ear. Kevin collapses to his knees, blood streaming down his face, his vision swimming in agony. 

The man in the top hat strides forward, a broad smile spreading across his lips. “Ah, what a tasteful dance we’re having tonight,” he says, his voice smooth and mocking. He grabs Kevin by the shoulders, hauling him to his feet like a broken puppet with its strings cut. With a grotesque elegance, he leads Kevin in a twisted waltz, spinning him around the blood-stained car park as the others disappear into the darkness like a pack of wild dogs, onto the next hunt. 

“You know, I wasn’t always this way. I was once as blind as you are now—ignorant of the world around me,” he says as they continue to spin. “Do you want to know what woke me from my slumber? Do you want me to show you?” he asks, twirling in a pirouette and letting Kevin spin away, tumbling to the ground in a broken heap. 

He stands with his arms in the air, as if basking in silent ovation, his head rolling to the side. He glances down at Kevin’s twisted form, a thick pool of red growing beneath him, his eyes vacant, staring off into the twisted night. 

“Oh dear, I think he’s broken. Oh well,” he says, a demented smile stretched across his lips. “There’s always the next soul we might save,” he adds with a wicked cackle as he dances away into the night.