Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

A Horror Unlike a Rock

A short horror by Matthew Tonks

They knock on a stranger’s door in a storm and are invited to a performance where hospitality comes with a shape and an appetite they did not expect.

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The relentless rain hammers itself against the earth in desperation, drowning everything it touches in its cold, watery grip. Thunder cracks, lightning roars, and the sky lights up, as the old door creaks open. An unusual looking man stares back at the two drenched newlyweds on his doorstep.

“S-Sorry to bother you at home, but I was wondering if I could use a phone,” the man says.

“Y-Yes, we’re terribly sorry, our car’s broken down, and there’s no other help to be found,” the woman adds.

The man cringes, grunting as he opens the door wider. “It’ll be faster if you come in and see The Master. He’ll deal with your issues—no tears, no tissues,” he groans.

“W-We don’t mean to be a bother, we were on our way to see her mother, when our ca—” his words are cut short as the woman shoves him through the door.

“Sorry,” she sighs. “But I’m wet, miserable, and desperate for something unforgettable.”

“Yes, well,” the little man sneers, “you’ve picked quite the night to land on our doorstep. The Master’s unveiling a new concept—he’s built a man for sexual conquest, so it’s the perfect night to be a guest. Take a towel and dry your heads, for before the night is through you’ll be in someone else’s beds.”

“N-Now steady on, we’re newlyweds, you see, and there’s only one bed she’ll be in—and that bed’s with me,” the man cries out.

“Well, how about that—such a refusal, so flat! You haven’t even eyed what you could ride!” The Master declares, strutting into the room in fishnet stockings and frilly panties that leave little to the imagination.

“Oh dear God,” the man gasps.

The Master smirks. “Hardly—but I’ll take it. And I’d suggest you do too, because it’s delectable, undeniable, refused by so few,” he says, dancing around them in obviously over-choreographed moves.

“W-We just need to use your phone, and then we’ll be on our way home.”

“A phone? A phone? Why would I keep one near? No signal, no towers—there’s nothing out here! A phone in the wasteland, a phone in the dust, a phone in the nowhere? You’re mad if you trust.”

“B-But your servant said you had one,” he says nervously, pointing toward the unusual little man. The two look at each other, then back at the couple, laughing.

“Servant? I won’t go that far—if I asked him, he wouldn’t even open a jar. But, he’s not what he seems, as soon you will see, he’s my partner in crime, a sexualised reflection of me,” The Master cries with a smug sneer curling his lips.

“I-I’m confused, what’s going on, why is every word sung like a song? He said you could help us to call, he swore you would know—no issues, no fuss at all.”

“Pft! You’ve gone outside the line, but I do that all the time. So maybe now we drop the charade, drop the procession and parade. It’s time for you to listen more, then you’d see what’s in store. I’m something of a celebrity, so come and join in my revelry. Mutual masturbation, and homemade pornography!” The Master sings as he struts around and rips off his panties.

“Oh my,” he says.

“Oh wow,” she exclaims.

“Oh no,” the little man says with a curl of his lips, as they stand in silence until a thunderous knock shakes the door.

“A-Are you expecting anyone else?” he asks. The Master shakes his head before the knocking cries out again.

“Hello!” someone calls out. “We were hoping to use your phone—our car broke down on the road home!”

The two look at each other, then at the couple standing before them.

“Brad and Janet?” The Master asks.

“N-No, Stuart and Jamie,” Stuart replies nervously.

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💬 Did this one echo?
Tell me—before it forgets your name.

—
Written by Matthew Tonks
→ Read more nightmares at mtonks.com

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