Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

In the Storm’s Eye It Dwells 

The rain strikes the windshield like a million fists, trying to punch their way into the metal beast’s stomach. Derek blinks and squeezes the steering wheel tightly as he peers desperately out into the gray swirling vortex that the world seems to have become beyond the safety of his car. 

He grimaces as he takes the turn late, his tyres crunching, his shocks groaning, and his arse bouncing on the seat. A horn blares, tyres screech, and panicked screams pass him as he pulls her back onto the road. He swallows, shakes his head, and mumbles obscenities and prayers beneath his breath. 

Almost as if someone above hears his cries, the rain dies down, the wind lets up, and he drives out into a calm world. He stares in wonder as the countryside around him seems unreal. 

He pulls over to the side of the road and steps out, looking around in stupefied wonder. His eyes widen, and he wets himself for the umpteenth time as he stares into the vortex that circles him. 

“It’s a thing of beauty,” a girl’s voice suddenly announces from behind him. 

He lets out a cry, a shriek, and a little more urine as he jumps a few feet in the air. 

She laughs. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” she says quickly. 

He swallows and laughs softly to himself before turning awkwardly to face her, a smile uncomfortably painted on his face. “D-D-Don’t be silly. Y-you didn’t scare me. S-surprised me, but you didn’t scare me,” he says in his most manly voice. 

She smiles, nods her head, and raises her eyebrows. “Okay, sure. If that’s how you want to play it. But there—” 

“I wasn’t afraid, OKAY!” he snaps quickly. 

“Okay, sure, understood,” she says, holding her hands in the air defensively. “Sorry for even trying,” she adds as she walks off with a shake of her head, readjusting her rucksack as she takes laboured steps toward the oncoming storm. 

His brow furrows, and his face twists slightly. “Hey! You’re going the wrong way! That’s not safe—not in that storm!” he calls out. 

“Look around you! Nowhere’s safe!” she calls back. His eyes widen, and his lips tremble as he looks around and notices the walls of darkness spinning violently around his small pocket of safety. 

“B-B-But,” he stammers as he looks back down at the girl, who is still walking toward the storm. “B-But,” he stammers again, staring at the dry road beneath his feet before jumping in his car. He throws it into reverse and wildly backs toward her, blaring his horn. Eventually, he comes to a skidding stop, leaps from the car, and grabs her by the arms, thrusting her into the side of his car. 

“H-How long?” he screams. 

She looks at him in horror, her face twisting with fear. 

“P-P-Please!” she cries. “P-Please!” 

He grimaces and throws her to the ground before charging to the driver’s side and yanking the lever to release the boot. It springs open, and he storms around to it, pulling out a shotgun and some rope. He pumps the weapon, then turns to the cowering girl, and aims it towards her. 

“Don’t treat me like a fool. The ground’s dry—drier than it should be after a passing storm. My gut tells me you’ve got something to do with it, and my gut’s n—” 

His words catch in his throat as a hand tears its way out of his stomach. A sea of crimson splashes over the road, and a wide smile peels across her lips as he falls into the ever-growing pool of red. 

Her doppelgänger stands all bloody before her, and they both start giggling.