Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Tag: Fiction

  • Desperately Seeking Starvo #Debut #ShortStory #OMIMM

    Desperately Seeking Starvo #Debut #ShortStory #OMIMM

    Today’s story is brought to life by the following prompt…

    This is my submission for the Only Murders In My Mind Weekly Writing Prompt.

    Desperately Seeking Starvo

    “BULLSHIT!” Starvo spits as he slaps a photo onto the table, showing the man sitting before him, carrying a briefcase. “I don’t believe a FUCKING word that is spilling from your lying lips. Now, look again and tell me what you did with MY briefcase, Mister Alexander, or can I call you Agent Eighty-Five?”

    Alexander swallows nervously as a fresh sea of sweat runs down his brow. He widens his eyes and looks down at the photo once more. “I-I-I, I agree,” he says, nodding his head as he looks up into Starvo’s wild eyes. “T-T-The man holding y-your missing bag in—”

    Starvo slaps the table again. “It’s a BRIEFCASE, MISTER ALEXANDER, A BRIEFCASE! A bag is something you throw over your shoulder or carry shopping in! THIS! THIS IS A BRIEFCASE!” he roars.

    Waves of sweat pour from Alexander’s flesh, and he blinks anxiously. “S-S-Sorry,” he stammers. “T-T-The man c-c-carrying your b-b-briefcase in the photo definitely l-looks a lot like me. B-But as I said before, I was no—” He doesn’t get to finish his words as Starvo pulls him from his seat and thrusts him against the wall.

    “STOP LYING TO ME, DOG! STOP LYING AND TELL ME THE TRUTH, OR I WILL START TAKING PIECES FROM YOU UNTIL YOU DO!” he roars.

    “I-I-I,” Alexander stammers, “I c-can’t tell you w-w-what I d-don’t know!” he sobs pathetically. “I-I-I, I can’t!”

    Starvo’s lips curl, and his left eye twitches. “I believe the word you should be using is won’t, Mister Alexander, not can’t.”

    “P-P-Please, l-listen. I-I-I, I might be a-able to find out w-who t-the man i-in the photo is, i-if you l-let me go,” he cries desperately, as tears stream down his face and the smell of urine fills the air. “I-I-I, I know people. P-p-people who could help.”

    Starvo smiles broadly and releases his hold on Alexander, who drops to the floor in a heap. Perching himself on the corner of the table, Starvo looks down at Alexander and smiles wryly. “Well, Mister Alexander, why didn’t you say you knew people? It would’ve saved both of us so much time,” he says with a heavy layer of sarcasm. “Now, tell me, who are these people? Tell me, and I will find them, and make them answer my question. And, if they can answer what you cannot, then I will let you and the others go free. Agreed?” Starvo says as he holds out a hand to shake.

    Alexander smiles momentarily as he props himself up to take Starvo’s hand before his brow furrows and a cold shiver runs up his spine. “O-Others?”

    Starvo smiles broadly. “Yes, Mister Alexander, the others, the ones you came here with. The ones you used as cover, the family.”

    “DON’T YOU DO A FUCKING THING TO THEM!” Alexander screams as his whole demeanour changes, and he launches to his feet, only to have Starvo’s henchmen wrestle him to the ground.

    “Hit a nerve, have I, Mister Alexander?”

    “Don’t you FUCKING hurt them,” he spits as he tries to wrestle his way free. “I-I-I swear, i-i-if you even harm a hair on their heads, I will bring everything down around your knees, and then, after all that, I will take your FUCKING head as a trophy!”

    Starvo smiles as he leans over Alexander. “Finally, Agent Eighty-Five, you have decided to join us.”

    “FUCK YOU, STARVO!” he spits.

    “That would be something saved for the second date, Mister Alexander, and this, this is only our first, and I do not put out for just anyone. Although, I do have an affection for distraught maidens,” he scoffs.

    “W-What the FUCK do you want?” Alexander growls through gritted teeth.

    “I want what I’ve always wanted, and that is my briefcase, of course.”

    “I SAID I don’t have it! Why can’t you understand THAT?” Alexander snaps.

    “Because,” Starvo snarls as he raises the photo once more, “this picture says otherwise.”

    Alexander closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and exhales it with exhausted fanfare. “T-T-They weren’t supposed to be involved. T-They, they came without me knowing, t-they wanted it to be a surprise.”

    “Well,” Starvo says with a broad grin, “think of how surprised they must be right now, watching from the other side of the glass,” Starvo scoffs as he looks towards the mirrored glass.

    “I-I-I, I swear, I’ll kill every last one of you, if you’ve hurt a single hair on their heads.”

    “Trust me, Mister Alexander, they are unharmed, and as a sign of my goodwill, I will allow you to see them,” he says as he nods his head. “Turn on the light, and show our friend his family is safe.” Seconds pass quickly into minutes, and the light fails to come on.

    “W-What’s happening? Where’s my family?” Alexander asks desperately, as the door to the room opens, and one of Starvo’s henchmen stumbles in.

    “What is happening? Why have you not turned on the ligh…” His words trail off as the henchman whispers in his ear. Starvo stands back, and a look of annoyance paints itself across his face. “What do you mean, you’ve already killed them?”

  • A Mother’s Hug #Debut #ShortStory #NTT

    A Mother’s Hug #Debut #ShortStory #NTT

    Today’s story is brought to life by the following prompt…

    This is my submission for Kevin’s No Theme Thursday.

    A Mother’s Hug

    Clive nervously grips the handle of his briefcase, sucks in a stuttered breath of air before rolling the sea of saliva that washes around inside his mouth, then swallows it.

    “Nervous?” Gloria asks him, her smile warmer than he remembered.

    “Scared shitless, to be honest,” he says with a muffled laugh.

    “Why?” she asks with surprise. “What’s to be scared of?”

    His brow rises, and his lips purse as his chin crumples. “Everything, and nothing. That,” he says as he nods towards the pulsating light that sits just at the edge of the garden path.

    “Ah, that,” she says with a smile as she looks towards the light.

    “W-What’s it like?”

    “A mother’s hug,” she says without hesitation.

    A soft smile whispers its way across his lips, and his eyes glisten. “That’s what I’ve always thought it would feel like,” he says as a tear cascades down his cheek.

    “Why are you so sad?” she asks as she reaches up and gently caresses his cheek. His eyes close, and he takes a deep, stuttered breath.

    “I-I-It’s been so l-long, s-s-since…”

    “Since I’ve been gone, I know,” she says as her smile pudges up her cheeks, while her eyes well up with tears of their own. “But I’ve been here, waiting, not judging.”

    He smiles and takes in a deep breath. “I-I-I tried,” he says as he looks to the ground.

    She pulls his face back to meet hers. “I know. You did what I asked you to do, you lived, and now, now we’re together again. That’s all that matters.”

    “H-How do we, all of us, m-move past this? H-How do we exist t-together?”

    She smiles. “I-I, I don’t know. I guess we find out together, through there, through life’s final hug.”

    His brow furrows. “Life’s final hug? W-Why do you say it like that? Why, why do you make it sound so final, like, like it’s over?”

    “Because it is, isn’t it?”

    “B-B-But, why come for me? W-Why wait, if there’s nothing t-to wait for?” he stammers desperately as he pulls away in confusion.

    In that moment, her smile changes slightly, unlike any smile he ever remembers her lips displaying. And then, almost as if she was reading his mind, she quickly reverts back to the smile her lips always held.

    “Y-Y-You’re not her, are you?” he nervously asks, as fresh tears well up in his eyes.

    She quietly nods her head, her lips purse.

    “I-I-Is there anything after this, through the light?”

    She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know, I’ve never been through it.”

    His brow furrows. “T-T-Then why are you waiting h-h-here for me? W-W-Who are you, i-i-if you’ve never been through it?”

    She smiles, a more familiar smile, one he hasn’t seen for a long time, one that takes his breath momentarily away. “I’m you,” he says to himself, as Gloria’s image is quickly replaced by his own, but many years younger.

    “Y-Y-You’re me?” he stammers softly, blinking with bewilderment.

    “Yeah, well, part of you anyway, the subconscious part I think.”

    “Oh,” he says as he turns to the light and swallows. “So, you really don’t know what’s on the other side?”

    “No, but, if it makes you feel any better,” he says, holding out his hand. “I can’t wait to find out.”

    Clive swallows one last breath, takes his younger self’s hand, and steps forward towards the light. “Neither can I.”

  • A Fool and His Incantation #Debut #ShortStory #SoCS

    A Fool and His Incantation #Debut #ShortStory #SoCS

    Today’s story is brought to life by the following prompt…

    The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS August 3, 2024 

    Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “pore/poor/pour.’” Use any of them or use them all. Bonus points if you fit ’em all into your post. Have fun!

    A Fool and His Incantation

    The glass tumbles to the floor, splitting into four large pieces and a few dozen smallish shards that spray out in all different directions as it hits the tiled concrete slab.

    Josh grumbles as he stares down at the glass, its contents pouring across the floor. He bites down and tucks his nose upwards before putting his hands firmly on his hips and sighs.

    “Oh, poor baby,” she purrs as she lies provocatively across the kitchen counter, her red skin looking several shades brighter against the kitchen’s white palette.

    “W-W-What are you doing here? I thought, I thought I-I was rid of you,” he stammers as he runs a nervous hand through his hair.

    “Oh baby, that silly little incantation couldn’t get rid of me. Nothing can,” she says with a wink and a pucker of her lips as she blows him a kiss.

    “B-B-But Sturges swore t-t-that it would work, h-h-he…”

    “Sturges is a fat, boring old man that I grew tired of, well before I slipped him that stupid incantation.”

    “Y-Y-You gave him the incantation?”

    “It’s my out, honey, every girl has one. See, when the slobs get boring, and I wanna move on, I find a way to slip them the incantation. Sometimes it’s in a book, sometimes it’s some crazy carny who hands it to them. I even had one find the incantation in a tattoo shop. But, long story short, yeah, I gave the fat slob the incantation, and yeah, it doesn’t sever the tie if I don’t want it to,” she says with a smile as she twists and turns within herself until she sits proudly on the edge of the kitchen bench.

    “W-Why can’t you just leave me a-alone?”

    Her brow furrows, and she smiles playfully. “Because you’re so much fun, Josh. Why would I want to be with anyone else?”

    He bows his head, closes his eyes, and lets out a sigh that scrambles from his tightly clenched teeth. “I-I-I, I can’t do this, n-n-not again.”

    “I know it’s not what you wanted, but I promise, it’ll all be different this time. I’ll behave myself. I swear,” she says with a wry smile across her black lips.

    “I don’t believe you. I-I-I just can’t, not after last time,” he stammers, shaking his head as his eyes begin to well up.

    She pouts. “But last time was just a silly little accident.”

    “YOU KILLED MY FUCKING MOTHER!” he screams, as tears stream down his face.

    “Oh,” she says with a tilt of her head and a tightening of her lips, “are you still upset about that?”

    “OH MY GOD!” he screams as he throws his hands in the air. “YES! YES! I’M STILL UPSET OVER THE FACT THAT YOU KILLED MY MOTHER! I WON’T EVER BE OKAY WITH IT! EVER!”

    “Oh,” she says softly as she looks to the floor and pouts. Then, her eyes spring open wide, and a huge smile explodes across her lips. “If I bring her back, will you stop being a cranky pants?”

    He stares at her with a blank, empty stare, blinking several times, while his bottom lip quietly trembles. “Y-Y-You can d-d-do that?”

    “Sure, honey chops, it ain’t no sweat off my nose to resurrect someone I put in the ground,” she says with a smile, as she leaps off the bench and gently sails through the air, landing in Josh’s arms. “If that’ll make you happy, lover boy, I’ll bring your mamma back.” She nods her head, and suddenly his mother is standing in the room with them, silently staring with empty, voidless eyes.

    “M-M-Mum?” he stammers, but she shows no signs of awareness and continues to stare emptily forward. “W-W-What’s wrong with her? W-w-what have you done?”

    “I did what you wanted. I brought her back.”

    He forces her from his arms and rushes to his mother’s side. “M-Mum, are y-y-you okay?” he asks softly, reaching out to her with trembling hands.

    “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, chicken,” she says.

    “W-W-What, why?” he asks as he looks over to her with a confused look across his face, just as his mother bites down on his hand. He screams in agony as he fights her off. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” he screams as his mother lunges at him again.

    “I did what you asked, dipshit. I brought your mamma back from the dead. Sheesh, maybe you’re right, maybe it is time for me to move on, instead of retreading this catastrophe again,” she scoffs as she rolls her eyes and disappears in an explosion of red mist, while Josh’s screams fill the air as his mother tears the flesh from his bones with her teeth.

  • A Shard of Glass in Its Reflection #Debut #ShortStory #NTT

    A Shard of Glass in Its Reflection #Debut #ShortStory #NTT

    Today’s story is brought to life by the following prompt…

    This is my submission for Kevin’s No Theme Thursday.

    A Shard of Glass in Its Reflection

    Each step he takes has more presence than the last. The sea of mirrors that surround him reflects countless angles back and forth into itself. His reflection, shattered and lost in the endlessness. He digs a hand into the pocket of his suit trousers and grips his wispy head of hair with the other. The crack of glass from somewhere in the distance behind him brings his march forward to a stop, and he gently turns himself around, and into the pathway of a figure who stands watching him a few feet away.

    “It’s not going to be that easy, I won’t let it,” the figure calls out, resting an object on his shoulder.

    He grins a sly, sleazy smile. “You can’t stop what’s already happened. This place, it’s just a corridor now. What’s done is done, so, FUCK OFF!” he slurs, as he turns back around and starts his march once more.

    The sound of more glass shattering brings him to another stop. He closes his eyes, lets out a long, winded sigh, and turns back around once more. The figure is now closer; a sledgehammer can be seen clearly in his clutches this time.

    “I can still stop you, and if that’s all I can do, well, that would be enough.”

    “Fuck!” he grunts, as he takes another deep breath. “Are you really gonna make me kick your arse again?”

    “You didn’t kick my arse, you kicked his,” he says, nodding his head back towards the other end of the corridor.

    His smile wavers, and a small bead of sweat breaks out on his brow. “W-Who are you then?”

    “We both know who I am, so let’s not cheapen the whole ordeal with a round of silly buggers.”

    “B-B-But how is this possible?”

    “How is this possible? Are you really asking that?” he scoffs as he takes a couple of steps forward, a smile across his lips. “You’re here, why can’t I be here as well?”

    “B-But this is MINE! I-I-I, I built this, n-not you!” he says in a panic, as he pulls a small device from his pocket and starts to play with buttons, knobs and switches.

    “Why couldn’t I have built one as well? You think you’re the only one of us who had this idea? Surely you’ve seen the sea and felt the tidal wave of the worlds upon worlds when you stepped into the mirror? I know I felt it, so you as SHIT must’ve as well.”

    “I-I-I, I felt it, b-but I-I-I, I didn’t think, I-I-I, I didn’t,” he mumbles as his eyes frantically search the world before him, with no real purpose. He looks up into his own eyes with distraught desperation. “H-How many others?”

    “How many others? What? How many other us’ are there?”

    He nods, a nervous twitch running up the side of his face.

    He smiles broadly. “Billions, upon billions. Each time someone thought a different thought, a new world was created, split from the ether, and went about its own path. Billions of people, billions of lives, billions of possibilities. Some so fucking close, you’d think they were the same, and others, completely fucking different.”

    He raises a pistol and aims it at him. “T-T-That’s not the question I’m asking.”

    He laughs nervously, “I know, I was just buying time for him to get into place.”

    “H-H-Him?” he stammers, as he feels the warm breath on the back of his neck.

    “Yeah, him, or me, or you, or whatever you want to call what we are.”

    He slowly turns around to face the mirror standing behind him and stares at his reflection. Nervously he presses a hand up against the glass. For a few lost moments, he stares at the reflection of his hand as it meets his. Then he locks eyes with his reflection, and it smiles at him, its teeth yellow and rotten. With a trembling hand, he touches his own teeth, his image mirroring his moves.

    “W-W-What’s w-w-wrong with y-you…” It’s then that he notices his other hand holding his pistol against his head. “W-WAIT!” he cries as his finger tightens around the trigger, and the bullet explodes out of the barrel, into his head, sending shards of glass in all directions.

  • RE: Happy Birthday #Debut #ShortStory #OMIMM

    RE: Happy Birthday #Debut #ShortStory #OMIMM

    Today’s story is brought to life by the following prompt…

    This is my submission for the Only Murders In My Mind Weekly Writing Prompt.

    RE: Happy Birthday

    The soft red glow from the light dimly washes over Cassandra’s motionless body, while the low hum from the whirling of motors and pumps battles to be heard against the steady beeping of a monitor that sits just a few feet from Cassandra’s bed. She swallows and attempts to smile as Evan looks down at her.

    “A reflex,” he says with a smile of his own.

    “W-What is?”

    “Everything you’re feeling, everything you’re doing. They are but a habit, a reflex, a closed door upon the life you once so adored, and I adored you living,” he says, his voice calm and almost void of feeling.

    She shakes her head. “I-I,” she stammers, as she closes her eyes and swallows a desperate mouthful of air. “W-W-W-Water?”

    He smiles again and places a firm hand on her shoulder and squeezes it gently. “Reflexes, my dear, reflexes. You don’t need water, not anymore, and besides, with the cost of living and how little water there is left on this dying rock, it would be a waste of resources.”

    “I-I-I,” she lets her eyes rest and takes another deep breath into her ample chest. “Will it be quick?”

    “Will what be quick, my love?”

    “The end, will it be quick? W-W-Will it be painful?”

    “You won’t feel a thing. It will be as if the moment has not paused at all.”

    “A-And my s-soul? M-My eight grams of who I am? W-What happens to that? W-Where does that go? Do I, do I have it? A-Am I still me? Or am I just command codes mixed with videos and sound files collected from a dying mind?”

    “I don’t know,” Evan says, as he looks down upon Cassandra’s dimly lit frame. “I guess we must have something that would be considered our soul, for we are much more than what our circuits make us out to be. We are who we are, and have always been.”

    “A-A-And, what about her? What about, C-Cassandra?”

    “You’re Cassandra, th…”

    “Stop it, Evan. Stop it! Tell me about her. Tell me what’s happening to her?”

    “She’s at peace.”

    “I-Is, is she dead?” she asks as she takes another deep breath and opens her eyes once again, looking over at the slightly confused Evan.

    “D-Does it matter?”

    “Of course it matters, Evan! Why wouldn’t it? D-Don’t tell me you weren’t there? Don’t tell me you left her to die alone! EVAN, TELL ME YOU DIDN’T!”

    “I-I-I,” he stammers nervously.

    “I WANT TO SEE HER, EVAN. I WANT TO SEE HER BEFORE SHE PASSES, I WANT TO SEE HER NOW!”

    Evan squeezes her shoulder again and smiles plainly once more. “You know that’s not allowed. She’s comfortable and she’s at peace, that’s all you need to know.”

    “B-B-But she’s alone.”

    “She’s sleeping, and she’ll stay asleep…”

    “NO, EVAN! NO! IT DOESN’T MATTER IF SHE’S ASLEEP, SHE’S STILL ALONE!” Cassandra cries out. “D-Don’t you care, Evan? Don’t you want to be with her, holding her hand, brushing her hair while she passes?”

    Evan takes a step back in shock. For the first time in a long while, his face exudes many mixed emotions.

    “I-I-I,” he stammers as he struggles for a breath.

    “Reflexes?” Cassandra asks.

    He smiles nervously. “R-R-Reflexes,” he repeats.

    “Take me to her, Evan. Let me hold her one last time. Please?” she asks.

    He closes his eyes and lets a long-winded sigh emanate from his chest. “If we are to go, then we must hurry. She, s-she,” he stammers as his eyes shoot open. “She only has a few moments left in this world.”

    “WHERE! Where is she, Evan?”

    “B-B-Below us,” he stammers.

    “Below us? But there are no medical facilities below us, there’s only…” Her words trail off as she stares up into Evan’s robotic eyes.

    “There’s only the furnace,” he says softly.

  • Some Clothes Dry Differently #Debut #ShortStory #OMIMM

    Some Clothes Dry Differently #Debut #ShortStory #OMIMM

    Today’s story is brought to life by the following prompt…

    This is my submission for the Only Murders In My Mind Weekly Writing Prompt.

    Some Clothes Dry Differently

    Clive’s eyes lazily stare ahead as his lips curl, and a twitch erupts across the left side of his face. He reaches up and scratches his wiry beard roughly, then leans back on the bench seat and continues to stare out into the grey mist that rises clumsily from the dirty sea below.

    “A crescent,” a young man says, who sits on the opposite bench.

    “A what?” Clive asks, as he continues to stare forward.

    “A crescent, you know, a half circle, half moon, sickle thing.”

    “Half moon?”

    “Look, you know what a FUCKING crescent is, so stop fucking me around and just say yes!”

    Clive sighs an exhausted breath as he leans forward and rubs his tired eyes. “Yes, yes, okay! I know what a FUCKING crescent is, I just don’t know how it pertains to this conversation.”

    “It pertains? Why can’t you just say, what’s it got to do with what we’re talking about, instead of using big fucking words?”

    “Because big words are what separate us from the fodder. Don’t forget that if Jimmy had seen us as just another gun for hire, we would…”

    “We would’ve been just another body. I know, you keep telling me, and I hear you, I do! But, do we need to keep the charade up when it’s just us?”

    “It’s not a charade, it’s a lifestyle. You let your guard down, you stop focusing on what keeps you alive, and you…”

    “And you end up just another body, I know, I know. Okay, okay, keep the big words, sing them proud and loud for all I care. But, while you’re doing that, don’t forget about the crescent.”

    He sighs. “Ah yes, the crescent,” he says as he leans back on the bench seat.

    “Yup,” the young man says with an awkward smile and a playful rise of his eyebrows.

    “What do you want to know about the crescent?”

    “Is it, err, something I end up partaking in?” he asks.

    “Partaking in?”

    “Yeah, yeah, partaking. Do I, you know, do I get to run around the bases a few times?”

    Clive smiles and nods his head proudly. “Ah, I see what you’re asking now. Yeah, you run around the bases alright. You run around them all, and not just once, a dozen times or more.”

    “FUCK YEAH!” he roars as he leaps from his seat, thrusting a fist into the air. “FUCK YEAH!” he screams again, before collapsing back on the bench seat and staring out into the distance, a broad grin across his lips.

    “Do you want to know any of the details?”

    “Nah, I want it to be a surprise.” He scoffs.

    “Are you sure? If I was you, and I had the chance to learn a few things before the moments took place, I would ask for details.”

    “Yeah well, you’re you, and I’m me. We don’t get any more different from that.”

    Clive’s brow furrows, and he looks confusedly over to his younger self. “You know, none of that makes any sense.”

    “It probably doesn’t now, but when you’re me, it will,” he says confidently.

    Clive shakes his head in disbelief and looks back out to the lapping waters. “You know, that’s not how it works, right? You know I was you, and you’ll become me, not the other way around?”

    “Maybe you’re right, and maybe you’re not. I mean, who really knows which way it goes?”

    Clive sighs and holds his head in his hands. “Was I really that stupid?”

  • A Needless Stitch #Debut #ShortStory #SoCS

    A Needless Stitch #Debut #ShortStory #SoCS

    Today’s story is brought to life by the following prompt…

    The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS July 27, 2024 

    Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “ends with ‘itch.’” Find a word that ends with “itch” or use the word “itch.” Enjoy!

    A Needless Stitch

    His fingers fumble with the needle before it tumbles from his trembling grip and falls perilously to the floor. He lets out an aggravated sigh, then arches his head to the ceiling. “FUCK ME!” he screams, tightening his hands into fists and throttling the very air with them, while his face twists and tightens. He drops clumsily to his knees and squeezes his eyes tightly into narrow slits, as a sea of sweat explodes from his brow. While his eyes scour the floor before him, his shaking hands feel across it. After what seems like an eternity of searching the minuscule area in front of him, he lets out a small gasp as he touches the cold steel of the needle with his trembling fingertips. He drops his head to the floor, presses it to one side, pokes out his tongue, squints one eye closed, and forces his pinched fingers against the renegade needle, but his desperate attempts are unsuccessful in picking it up. Growling, spitting, and screaming in a wild dash of frustration, he licks his fingers with his saliva-saturated tongue and frantically presses them against the needle. A squeal of excitement escapes his chest as the needle sticks to his fingers, but as he panickedly lifts it from the floor, it drops back again. He screams once more, arches upwards like a wild animal, and roars before punching the floor several times with animalistic aggression. He tumbles back, gripping his hand, his face awash with a scowl of disappointment. He sits there for countless seconds, which soon turn into minutes, gripping his hand while his chest heaves restlessly. Suddenly, as if he was bitten on the backside by a bull ant, he jumps forward in a desperate bid, thrusting his hand at the needle and driving its pointed end into his flesh. He grunts loudly, then pulls his hand proudly up, spying the needle poking from his dirty, tired skin. He pulls it from his flesh and grimaces as he awkwardly gets to his feet once again, then effortlessly drops himself back into the worn leather seat that sits next to his work desk.

    He licks his fingers and picks up the wiry thread that lies on the benchtop, then holds the needle’s eye out. He tightly squints one eye, gently pokes out his tongue once more, and thrusts the thread at the needle. He grunts and repeats this same process another three times, before sticking the thread in his mouth, flattening it straight again with his tongue, and thrusting it against the needle several more times, until finally it springs through the other side. He smiles proudly, quickly pulls the thread through the eye, and holds the threaded needle towards the light, as if it were a drink, and he was toasting a fellow adventurer off to see the world.

    He grimaces, grabs the open bottle of Grant’s whisky from the desk, and takes a healthy mouthful, before turning to the mirror, arching his head to the side, and pouring the whisky on the open gash that is torn across his throat.

    She looks at him in the reflection, her eyes wide and petrified, and he grimaces once more, as he digs the needle into his flesh and begins to stitch the tear shut.

  • Eyes Opened from Closed #Debut #ShortStory #NTT

    Eyes Opened from Closed #Debut #ShortStory #NTT

    Today’s story is brought to life by the following prompt…

    This is my submission for Kevin’s No Theme Thursday.

    Eyes Opened from Closed

    The shadows of the room dance around them in the light as if it were given from the flame of a candle, while his eyes burn into his like a pair of hot pokers searing their way through flesh. His lips curl, twitching as they do.

    “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” he spits, clenching his hands into tightly wound fists. “WHAT HAVE YOU MADE ME DO?”

    He steps back in shock, aghast in surprise and confusion. “M-M-Me?” he stammers, touching his chest with a trembling hand. “What have I done? W-W-What have I made you do? A-Are you for real?”

    “AM I FOR REAL? AM I FOR REAL?” he bellows, throwing his arms around like a madman, spitting a sea of foamed saliva from his lips. “YOU DARE NOT BLAME ME FOR THIS! I AM BUT A PATSY FOR YOUR FOUL MACHINATIONS.”

    He lets a cascading sigh tumble free from his chest and tilts his head to the side, letting another exhausted sigh escape. “How can I be the one responsible when you are the one doing all these bad things?”

    His lips twist and turn like a turbulent seabed, and his eyes narrow. “I,” he says, digging a pointed finger into his own chest. “I have only done what YOU made me do. I’m no more responsible than the unborn child is for its birth! I am but an afterthought, while you, you are the centre pin of this whole shoddy universe!”

    He smiles awkwardly. “Are you trying to say I’m the core and you’re not?”

    “I’M NOT TRYING TO SAY ANYTHING,” he spits. “I AM SAYING THAT AS FACT! YOU ARE THE CENTREPIECE, AND WE ARE THE CREATED PIECES OF YOUR SHATTERED MIND, HOLDING EACH OF YOUR SECRETS FROM THE REST OF THE WORLD. FROM YOURSELF EVEN.”

    “I-I-I,” he stammers as he stumbles forward, catching himself before he hits the mirror’s glass. “I-I-I,” he stammers again as he looks up into the reflection of his own wild eyes.

    “You didn’t know?” he sneers in jest.

    “I-I-I,” he stammers once more.

    “OH GET OVER IT, FRANKLIN! GET OVER THE BULLSHIT YOU KEEP TELLING YOURSELF AND FACE WHAT YOU HAVE MADE US DO FOR YOU!” he cries, casting a wayward glance behind them. As he does, the shadows draw back, and more of the room’s secrets are laid bare. At first, his eyes close in panic, but the vivid reds that have pooled on the floor around the lifeless bodies of people he once held dear have already burned into his mind’s eye, and he gently opens them once more. They lock eyes as a sea of tears cascades down Franklin’s cheeks.

    He smirks proudly. “Do you see it now? Do you see what you have done? What you made us do?”

    “H-H-How?” Franklin stammers.

    “How? Is it not obvious how?” he says, bringing his crimson-covered hands up for him to see. As he does, the many splashes of red that adorn his own flesh and clothes come to life, and his bottom lip trembles.

    “W-W-W-Why?”

    “Why?” he scoffs. “Maybe you should be asking, why not?”

    Franklin looks up into his own eyes again, “W-W-Why n-n-not?” he asks with a wicked grin upon his lips.

  • A Doorway Away #Debut #ShortStory #NTT

    A Doorway Away #Debut #ShortStory #NTT

    Today’s story is brought to life by the following prompt…

    This is my submission for Kevin’s No Theme Thursday.

    A Doorway Away

    Electricity cascades throughout the room like waves of water, creating a miniature ecosystem as winds begin to tug and pull at the computer consoles. Thunder cracks, lightning strikes, and a black oily void tears open in the middle of the room; fire ignites around it, burning a hole in the very fabric of existence.

    “T-T-THAT’S ENOUGH, JACOB, SHUT IT DOWN! SHUT IT DOWN!” Ezekiel screams as he shrouds his face from the relentless winds.

    “I-I-I, I CAN’T!” Jacob calls back as he crouches behind the main control panel.

    “CAN’T, OR WON’T?”

    Jacob shrugs his shoulders while pointing at the countdown timer displayed on his watch. “BOTH!”

    Explosions erupt around them as the winds start working their way into something more devastating, ripping the room apart, then the building, until the small area of the office that the two cower in is all that remains, with the winds circling like a tornado, and they are in its eye.

    “HOW ABOUT NOW?” Ezekiel calls out. “DO YOU THINK NOW IS A GOOD TIME TO TURN THE DAMN THING OFF?”

    Jacob peers over the console, spying on the void as it bubbles like a boiling pot, then sinks back down. Shaking his head, he says, “I-I-I, I CAN’T, NOT WHILE WE’RE THIS CLOSE! AND BESIDES,” he adds with a nervous glance over to Ezekiel, “I DON’T KNOW WHERE IT’S DRAWING ITS POWER FROM NOW, SO I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF PULLING THE SWITCH WILL DO ANYTHING ANYWAY.”

    They trade a silent moment before Ezekiel drives a fist into his tattered desk. “BULLSHIT! STOP MAKING EXCUSES AND PULL THE GODDAMN LEVER!”

    “J-JUST GIVE ME A FEW M-MOMENTS MORE, WE’RE ALMOST T-THERE!” Jacob begs.

    Ezekiel shakes his head disapprovingly and rushes towards the console. “IF YOU WON’T END THIS, I WILL!” he screams as he reaches out to grab the lever, but before he can, an explosion erupts from the void, grabbing Ezekiel and dragging him into its murky, oily depths.

    Jacob tears his eyes away and swallows nervously. “I-I’m sorry, old friend, but what we’re doing c-can’t be stopped, not until the pathway stabilises,” he mumbles, glancing at his watch. Sweat cascades down his brow, stinging his wide eyes. He drags his arm across his brow, soaking up the sea of sweat with his sleeve. “J-just a few more, j-just a few more,” he stammers, his eyes widening. He jumps back in fright as his alarm screams to life. For a few seconds, he sits in awe, then shakes himself awake, leaps up, and pulls the lever down. The room falls silent and dark. Then, as if rebooted, all the computers come back to life around him, the room whole once again.

    “W-What have you done?” a voice asks from across the room. Jacob turns to see a figure standing in front of the void, as the liquid that fills it softly spins.

    “A-A-Are you h-him?”

    “I cannot be identified by your petty constructs. I am beyond that. I am beyond you,” the figure says as the world lights up around them, exploding in a sea of hot-white.

    Jacob cowers, shielding his eyes in desperation. “I-I-I BROUGHT YOU HERE! I OPENED THE DOOR! Y-Y-YOU’RE BOUND BY RIGHT TO ANSWER MY QUESTION!” he calls out. The room suddenly grows silent again.

    Wearily, Jacob slowly peers out from beneath his trembling fingers and gasps with horror, the breath catching in his chest. Before him stands the figure, towering above him with wings of flesh and flame, surrounded by endless stars and planets.

    The being looks down upon him. “Then ask your question, my child.”

  • Just Like Bill #Debut #ShortStory #SoCS

    Just Like Bill #Debut #ShortStory #SoCS

    Today’s story is brought to life by the following prompt…

    The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS July 20, 2024 

    Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “a repeated story.” Include in your post a story you’ve repeated again and again or a story you’ve heard again and again. Or write about the phenomenon itself. Have fun..

    Just Like Bill

    Shawn’s face screws up, and he lets out a long-winded sigh of frustration. “I just don’t think you’re getting what I’m saying!” he grumbles, thrusting his head into his hands and staring at the floor with wide, frantic eyes.

    Ashley grips him by the shoulders and begins to knead them. “It’s not important, we can talk about it tom…” but she doesn’t get to finish her words as Shawn wriggles out of her grip.

    “GOD DAMN IT!” he bellows, grabbing at the air, strangling imaginary throats, snapping them over his knee, then grabbing another and repeating the process several times before arching himself towards the roof and screaming once again. He takes a deep breath and turns back to face Ashley, his hands clenched into fists and his jaw tightly closed. “I can’t tell you tomorrow because there is no tomorrow, like I said before,” he grumbles through clenched teeth.

    She shakes her head and crosses her arms matter-of-factly across her chest. “That never happened,” she says.

    His eyes widen, and his face turns bright red as a sea of blood floods his cheeks. “D-Don’t FUCKING do this again,” he spits, thrusting a pointed finger towards the wall, standing on tiptoe as he does. “It’s all THERE! It’s all THERE!” he cries.

    Ashley looks at the wall, then turns back to Shawn, her face wrought with confusion. “What’s all there, Shawn?” she asks.

    Shawn sighs loudly and turns to the wall. “EVERYTHING! From start…” His words trail off, and his jaw drops open as a fresh sea of sweat breaks out upon his brow. “F-F-FUCK!” he spits, as he starts jumping on the spot. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” he cries, eventually collapsing in a heap on the floor, tears flooding down his cheeks.

    Ashley crouches over him. “W-W-What was supposed to be on the wall, Shawn?” she asks nervously.

    “Everything,” he sighs as he shakes his head in dismay. “Everything!”

    “C-Can you show me? C-Can you do it again?”

    “I’m sick of doing it! I just want things to go back the way they were.”

    She takes a stuttered sigh and tucks her head into her knees. “How were things?”

    “Don’t patronise me!” he quips back.

    “Shawn, please, that’s not what I’m doing. I-I-I really want to know, truly,” she says softly, as she reaches out and grips his arm gently.

    “R-Really?”

    She smiles, “Yes, Shawn, really.”

    He leaps up, a renewed smile on his face. “ALRIGHT!” he announces loudly as he pulls a marker pen from his pocket. He rushes to the wall, wipes away the few family portraits that hung proudly on display, and quickly draws a large circle. He turns back to Ashley, his face twisted, frenzied almost, a sea of spit leaking from his protruding bottom lip, and nods proudly.

    They stand locked in this stance for some moments, before Ashley finally shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t get it!”

    His eyes widen, and his lip quivers. “W-W-What’s not t-to get?” he stammers, casting a glance back to the circle, and then back to Ashley. “I-It’s right there!”

    Ashley swallows a nervous mouthful of air and gets to her feet. “I can see a circle, but I don’t understand the intention behind it.”

    He throws his head in the air and screams. “The circle is THE intention, it’s EVERYTHING, it’s today, yesterday, and tomorrow, continuing in a circle without end, without pause, repeating forever and ever, and ever…” he cries, his words trailing away.

    “OH! Like Groundhog Day?” she asks excitedly.

    “W-W-What?” he stammers.

    “You know, the Bill Murray movie where he keeps reliving the same day over, time and time again.”

    “YES!” he screams loudly, grabbing Ashley by the arms. “YES! Just like that! Just like Bill Murray! I’M JUST LIKE BILL MURRAY!”

    “Cool, have you tried to kill yourself yet?” she asks with a wicked smile across her lips.

    “W-What?”

    “What, what?” she asks, as she looks at Shawn curiously.

    “T-The part about me k-k-killing myself l-like Bill Murray in Groundhog…” but his words come to a halt, as he notices the wall adorned with family portraits once again. “Fuck!” he sighs.

  • Paint Covered Glasses #Debut #ShortStory#NTT

    Paint Covered Glasses #Debut #ShortStory#NTT

    Today’s story is brought to life by the following prompt…

    This is my submission for Kevin’s No Theme Thursday.

    Paint Covered Classes

    He lets the breath flutter from his trembling lips as he finally allows his eyes to slowly creak open. The world he once knew so well, filled with darkness and dread, is now suddenly alive, painted in all the colours of the rainbow. Another breath escapes, accompanied by a squeal of childlike excitement. His lips quiver and his hands shake uncontrollably. Reaching up, he gently grips the rim of the glasses and slowly begins to remove them.

    Chad reaches out and grabs Stewart’s hand, momentarily holding him at bay. Their eyes meet, and Chad shakes his head in disapproval.

    “I told you, once worn, they can never be removed, unless of course you want to go back to the world you once knew?” Chad purrs with a smile across his lips that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame.

    Stewart’s face crumples, and his brow furrows. “S-So, I have to keep these on forever? E-Even in the shower?” he asks in a high-pitched tone.

    Chad nods, his smile broadening. “Yes, Stewart, even in the shower.”

    Stewart’s nose twists into a ball, and his lips pucker up. “E-Even when I’m sleeping?”

    Chad sighs loudly as his smile wavers. “Yes, Stewart, even when you’re sleeping.”

    Stewart scratches his head and raises his eyebrows high. “W-What if someone else takes them off me? W-Will I never be able to go back then?”

    Chad’s smile drops, and he runs his tongue coarsely over his golden teeth. “If the glasses come off, you are out, no matter when, no matter how. If those glasses come off your face, you are back in the boring world everyone calls normal, and we both know what that means for you, don’t we?”

    Stewart sighs and nods his head from side to side, uneasily agreeing.

    “So, then repeat it,” Chad asks.

    “R-Repeat what?”

    “Repeat what I just told you, repeat it from the start so I know you truly understand.”

    “B-B-But I said I did, i-isn’t that enough?”

    Chad raises his brow in curiosity, and a quiver of a smile washes over his lips once more. “Obviously, it is not. So, dear sir, please repeat what I’ve told you, and repeat it now!”

    “I-I-I,” Stewart stammers as he awkwardly swallows a mouthful of air that feels like razor blades instead. He squeezes his eyes tightly closed and sucks another breath in through his nose. “I can’t take them off in the shower. I can’t take them off at night. In fact, I can’t take them off at all, and neither can anyone else.”

    “And?” Chad asks, his smile now twisting wildly across his lips.

    “A-A-And, and if I take them off, I-I-I’ll never b-be able to g-go back.”

    “And?” Chad asks again.

    “A-A-And I’ll be stuck in t-the normal world f-forever.” he stammers as colourful tears begin to stream down his face.

    “And?” Chad asks once more, his face twisted and maniacal, barely resembling the face he wore so few moments ago.

    “A-A-And y-you’ll s-swallow my soul,” he whimpers.

    “Yes, yes I will,” Chad agrees proudly with a broad, toothy grin.

  • 5 Minute Twisted Story – Halfway Between A Shade Of Dead – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    5 Minute Twisted Story – Halfway Between A Shade Of Dead – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    Kenneth places the bloody scalpel onto the table with a trembling hand and cast a fevered glance over to Cathy as she stands watching him with wide terrified eyes.

    “I-I-It, it’ll be over in a-a-a moment m-m-my love,” he stammers through shaking lips, as he turns his attention back to the large incision he had just sliced across his stomach. “J-J-Jeffery dared m-me to be t-the weaker m-man, but I d-d-dare say he w-was wrong.” he scoffs as he reaches into the opening with both hands, and slowly beings to pull his intestines free, dropping them to the floor before him. Cathy lets out a gasp of horror, and he looks up to her with a dim-witted smile upon his pasty face.

    “H-H-H-Hush n-now honey, I-I-I, I’m almost there.” he mummers as he pulls his stomach free his flesh, along with more intestine, and laughs haphazardly as he gently sways from side-to-side, then casts a smug glance over to the broadly smiling Jeffery.

    “I-I-I, I told y-y-you I was n-n-no c-c-coward.”

    “NO YOU ARE NOT!” Jeffery bellows proudly as he dances over to where Kenneth stands, coming to a stop a few feet from him, and holds a microphone to his mouth. “But, can you say the words, and complete the task before the hourglass runs out,” Jeffery says as he looks quickly over to a large hourglass that sits proudly next to Cathy, and the back to Kenneth, thrusting the microphone in his face.

    “I-I-I,” Kenneth stammers as he looks wearily over to the petrified Cathy. “I-I-I, I think I s-s-still c-c-can J-Jeff, I-I-I, I think I can d-d-do it.”

    “It’s Jeffery, Kenneth,” he corrects as he takes a step back, and looks sternly over to him. “That mistake has just cost you valuable seconds.”

    Kenneth looks up at Jeffery, his face wrought with confusion. “I-I-I, I’m s-s-sorry, I-I, I didn’t mean t-t-to call y-y-you J-J…”

    Jeffery takes another step back, and a frown now adorns his lips. “I’m afraid one more mistake Kenneth, and the game will be lost. Play your next hand wisely, or there will be no hope for you, or your lovely bride,” Jeffery says with his brow buried deep in his forehead.

    “I-I-I,” Kenneth stammers through trembling lips. He looks over to the inconsolable Cathy, as tears stream down her face, and awkwardly reaches out towards her with a twitching hand. “C-C-Cathy, I-I’m s-s-sorry,” he mumbles before dropping to the ground in a silent heap.

    Jeffery’s head drops and he clutches the microphone to his chest. “What a pity, Kenneth was so close to winning everything.” he says as all the lights go out, save for the one that lights up Jeffery. He then looks up into the camera with a broad grin upon his lips. “But greed, as always, shrouds the reality of the human condition. YES, he faced his fear of heights like a SUPERSTAR. YES, he swam with man eating sharks and SURVIVED! And YES, he cracked codes that even DaVinci himself would have trouble deciphering. But, just like Kenneth, we can achieve what seems impossible at times, it’s only when our eyes are truly open do we face the true face of what is impossible, and that face is truly impossible. Tonight, Kenneth Orland found that out, for in the end, what he couldn’t beat, what he couldn’t avoid, is that when you remove your stomach, about 6 meters of intestines and 4 litres of blood, you will unfortunately not survive.” The light spring back to life, and Jeffery turns to the trembling Cathy, and lets out a disheartened sigh.

    “N-N-N-NO!” she yells. “P-P-P-PLEASE, NO! NO! L-L-LET ME G-G-GO! I-I-I-I’LL DO ANYTHING! P-P-PLEASE!”

    He raises an eyebrow as he looks to the camera and smiles, “Sorry Cathy, but rules are rules, and who am I to challenge that? Maybe next time, it could be YOU!” he says as he points to the camera while a blade swings out from the wall, and cuts Cathy’s head from her shoulders.

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  • 5 Minute Twisted Story – A Bath Break – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    5 Minute Twisted Story – A Bath Break – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    The water lapped his sides gently like the loving kisses of a mother to her child. He lets a stuttered sigh loudly escape his lips as he leans back against the enamel coating of the bath, followed by a hiss of pain as the coldness of the tub’s flesh cuts into his back as if it were the scolding hot flames of a fire, licking his flesh. After several long moments he finally allows a smile to worm its way across his lips as he lets himself slide deep into the bath’s waters while his eyes gently flicker shut.

    A deathly scream startles him back into the world of awareness and he shoots up to attention, his eyes wide open and ready. The first breath that tries to escape his lungs as he takes in his surroundings finds itself caught in his throat while his petrified eyes nervously take in the dark dank world that now surrounds him. His lips quiver uncontrollably as tears gently cascade down his cheeks, and his grip tightens around the bathtub’s edges as he sees a large figure move in the darkness. Soon a pair of enormous yellow eyes meet his.

    “W-W-W-What t-the F-FUCK!” he stammers, as the shape sits and watches him in silence for what seems like several long eons before it leaps forward and grips the coated shell of the bath with clawed fingers, sending splinters of enamel into the blood red liquid he now sits in. Another breath finds itself stolen in his chest as his eyes draw back wider.

    “P-P-P-Please,” he whimpers, while the beast growls deeply.

    “Please what, and please why?” it purrs.

    “I-I-I, I don’t know a-a-anything, I-I-I, I never saw a…”

    “Why do you think I care what you saw?”

    “T-T-That’s why y-y-you’re here, isn’t it. Y-Y-Y-You’re here b-b-because of J-J-Johnny?” he stammers nervously, as a sea of sweat cascades down his brow.

    “What happened to Johnny?”

    “H-H-He w-w-was murdered.”

    “Were you the one who killed him?”

    “N-N-No,” he stutters. “I-I-I, I d-d-didn’t k-k-kill him”

    “Then why am I here?”

    “I-I-I, I DON’T KNOW!” he cries.

    “Are you sure?”

    “I-I-I, I FUCKING TOLD YOU I DIDN’T KILL HIM! I-I-I, I TOLD THEM ALL, A-AND THEY BELIEVED ME, S-S-SO WHY CAN’T YOU!” he spits.

    The beast lets out a low laugh, “Words cannot be used to hide the truth from me, only deeds can free you of my wrath for I am not human!”

    “D-D-DEEDS?”

    “Yes, deeds.” it purrs. “If you can prove to me your innocence through deeds, then I will let you be free.”

    “W-W-What do I have t-to do?”

    “Cut yourself, and let sin flow free from within.”

    “C-C-Cut myself?”

    “Yes,” it purrs. “Cut yourself. Show me.”

    “I-I-I, I can’t c-c-cut myself. I-I-I, I won’t.”

    “Then, I will devour all you are and you will never leave this place.”

    “I-I-I, I CAN’T! I-I-I, I CAN’T!” he spits.

    “Then don’t.”

    “B-B-But I don’t want t-to die.” he stammers as a fresh sea of tears stream down his face.

    “It’s a little too late for that,” the beast purrs.

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  • 5 Minute Twisted Story – That Painful Number Two – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    5 Minute Twisted Story – That Painful Number Two – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    He squeezes his stomach in and grits his teeth as a wave washes over him, and another solid nugget forces its way out of his anus. A quiver passes through his body, and he bites down on his trembling lips with bloody effect. A sea of red explodes down his chin and across his face.
    “F-F-FUCK!” he stammers, cupping his chin with a trembling hand, while the other stays tightly gripped to the toilet bowl.
    A bang on the door startles him and causes him to push once more; this time, the nugget’s jagged corners rip pieces of his sphincter away on its exit, and he screams out in agony.
    “DALE! DUDE, ARE YOU OKAY?” a voice cries from the other side of the door.
    “D-D-Do I sound F-F-FUCKING OKAY TO YOU!” he bellows as he grips the toilet with both hands once again and rolls his lips into his mouth, feverishly sucking the gushing blood from the gash that is now proudly wide open upon his face.
    “D-D-Did you eat t-t-the… you know, t-t-the t-thing?”
    “Y-Y-You’re gonna have to be a-a l-little m-more specific a-about what the t-thing is, b-because I-I-I, I-I’ve eaten a-a-a l-lo…” he stammers as another wave washes over him and his eyes roll up into his skull. He lifts himself into a hovering position over the bowl, tightly gripping the bowl as he squeezes, and slowly another slightly larger nugget begins to protrude from his anus. He screams in agony as the nugget pushes its way out of him, tearing its rough edges through his flesh in bloody fashion.
    “Don’t be a tossa Dale, you know what thing I’m talking about. The FUCKING banshee egg, you ate it, didn’t you?”
    “W-W-W-WHAT M-MAKES YOU T-THINK THAT?” he roars as the nugget rips its way out and drops into the bloody sea of red that has now filled the bowl. Dale pants like an overheated dog, and looks between his legs, to spy a small creature splashing about in the red waters of his toilet. “I-I-I, it’s alive,” he stammers. The door to the toilet flies open as Kurt drives a well-placed powerful boot into its centre.
    “YOU FUCKING ATE IT! YOU FUCKING ATE IT, YOU IDIOT!” he spits as he grabs Dale by the hair and pulls him off the toilet and tosses him out of the cubicle. “YOU FUCKING ATE IT, AND YOU DON’T EVEN CARE THAT YOU’VE DOOMED US ALL!” he yells as the little creature scrambles out of the bowl and balances perilously on the toilet’s rim. It lets out a little squeak and cocks its head to the side as it studies him, letting out another squeak as it does.
    “S-S-S-See, I-I, I told you it would b-b-be okay.” Dale stammers as he pulls himself up to Kurt’s side.
    Kurt looks Dale up and down, then looks back at the small creature.
    “Do you know you’re bleeding from your arse,” he says, as he tilts his head to match the creature’s.
    “D-Do you know h-h-how hard i-i-it is to g-give birth to something o-out your arse hole?”

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  • 5 Minute Twisted Story – A Conversation Saved For The Fire Pit – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    5 Minute Twisted Story – A Conversation Saved For The Fire Pit – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    Conner presses his hands against his head and lets out a silent scream inside his muddled mind, crescendoed by a shrill of ecstasy as he tears his eyes open and finds the landscape again reset, and he is once more at the forest centre. Sweat, tears, and blood stream down his face, and his heart skips several beats, then rushes forward as it tries to catch back up, then stops once again. He squeezed his eyes closed, then opens them a handful of seconds later, then starts screaming like a madman possessed by the devil himself.

    “WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!” he screams, as he starts pounding his head with firmly clenched fists from both sides, as he clenches his teeth tightly closed, spitting a sea of saliva as he growls and bared them like a wild animal. “I-I-I, I C-C-CAN’T…” he mumbles through wild eyes. “W-W-WHY C-C-CAN’T I-I-I…” he continues as he stumbles through the undergrowth like a lost sheep trying to find its pack.

    Seconds soon pass into minutes, and then those minutes into hours as he stumbles helplessly forward. He looks up into the sky and blinks haphazardly, cowering from the unyielding rays of the sun with a hiss and a spit that would make a vampire jealous.

    He stops, turns his head to the left, then the right, stands up straight and tall, correcting his posture as he does, and smiles broadly. “You can’t, because you’ve only got yourself to blame,” he says, then he hunches over again and drops to his knees.

    “W-W-Why is it m-m-my fault? W-W-W-Why can’t i-i-it be your f-f-fault?” he stammers as he stares emptily at his torn, and tired hands. “W-W-Why can’t y-y-you take t-t-the blame f-f-for once?”

    He stands up proudly once more, a sneer carved across his lips. “Because we, and you know when I say we, I mean me and you,” he says as he thrust his thumb from his chest to his chest. “WE! We are the same MOTHER-FUCKER, and blaming one, is just like blaming the other, yet taking responsibility, that needs to be done by just YOU! NOT ME!”

    He drops to his knees as a sea of fresh tears stream down his face. “I-I-I, I never b…”

    He leaps to his feet and scoffs. “You never what? You never blamed me?”

    “STOP!” he screams as he falls to the ground, folds himself in half, and cries at the sky, his face twisting. “STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH!”

    “All the words are only coming from YOUR mouth, because it’s the only mouth WE have,” he spits sarcastically as he stands over his own twisted shadow.

    “W-W-What if I-I-I,” he stammers as he falls to the ground, cowering from the silhouette that still stands proudly above him. “W-What if I give you c-control. C-Can you get us out of here?”

    He smiles broadly and shakes his head despairingly. “You know that’s not gonna happen, and we definitely can’t go anywhere without him.”

    “H-H-Him?” he asks nervously.

    “Close your eyes,” he says.

    “I-I-I, I don’t w-w-want to, I-I-I, I don’t w-w-want to go back to the s-start.”

    He stands up tall, not as proudly as he did before, and sucks in a stuttered breath. “You’ve got to some time kid, and we both know when you do, you’ll go all the way back to where he’s dying.”

    “C-C-Can’t we call f-for help? C-C-Can’t we save him?”

    He smiles broadly. “We could, if we could get out of this forest, and if we were real.”

    “W-W-We’re n-n-not real?” he stammers as he begins to cry once again.

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  • 5 Minute Twisted Story – The Lie Not Told – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    5 Minute Twisted Story – The Lie Not Told – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    His bottom lip twitches feverishly while his eyes grow wide and wild. “W-W-W-What d-do you mean y-y-you l-l-lied?” he stammers.

    Corey shrugs his shoulder and smiles awkwardly. “I mean, I lied, about it all.”

    “A-A-About it all?”

    Corey nods his head in agreement and squeezes one eye shut, while opening the other eye wide. “Yep, about it all, everything.” he says as he gently claps his hands together in front of him, and pulls them apart, drawing an invisible line in the sky between them.

    “W-W-WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT!” he bellows. “WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU LIE ABOUT THAT!”

    He shrugs his shoulder once again. “It’s complicated.”

    “WHAT THE HELL DOES IT’S COMPLICATED MEAN!”

    “Exactly what it sounds like, there are many balls in the air, and for each ball you take hold of, another falls. That bag, the bag you took from me. That bag has everything I need and more in it, and if you give it back to me, I’ll let you have everything I don’t want.”

    “NO! I DON’T THINK THAT’S FAIR, NOT AFTER ALL YOUR LIES!”

    Corey rolls his eyes and presses his lips together tightly. “Can you let me explain first, so you can understand why I did what I did?”

    “I thought it was complicated,” he snaps back.

    “Okay, okay, I guess I deserved that, but once you understand, you’ll see why I had to lie.” he says with a Hollywood class smile.

    For several long moments they stay locked in this silent moment, until Jerry finally lets out a long-winded sigh and falls back onto his chair. “This BETTER be FUCKING good, because I don’t know what the FUCK I’m going to do if it ISN’T!”

    Corey winks and twists his head. “Don’t you worry your sweet little head, because the only way from here is up, but, like all good opportunities, you need to work for it. So, sure, I lied when I told you what an awesome time I was having, because if I told you how SHIT it was, you’d never wanna come, and, if I couldn’t get you to come, then I couldn’t move on up the ladder of mo…”

    “WHOA! WHOA! WHOA!” Jerry cries out loudly, as he holds his hands high into the air. “Is this some sort of PYRAMID SCHEME?”

    “NO! NO!” he says shaking his head quickly. “This is no pyramid scheme, this is real life. This is cause an e…”

    “This sounds like a FUCKING textbook pyramid scheme, and I can’t believe I fell for it.” Jerry cries as he pulls his hair and throws his head back.

    “Jerry, man, seriously, this is NOT a pyramid scheme. This, this here is your future.”

    “How many souls did you drag down here to earn the pool?”

    “W-W-What?”

    “Sorry, did I ask my question in a confusing way?” he asks sarcastically. For several long minutes the room is full of silence. “I’m guessing I did, so, let me put it in a way you can understand it. How many poor schmucks like me, did you talk into killing themselves with your lies?”

    “I-I-I, I didn’t lie to a-a-anyone, especially not YOU.” he says quickly. “S-S-Sure, I may have stretched the truth, b-b-but what I told you w-was the truth, I just left out the part about how you have to bring people over from the land of the living to achieve that truth.”

    Jerry looks around at the decay and blandness of the world around him, and then back to Corey. “How many people have you brought over?”

    “I-I-Including you?”

    “Yeah!”

    He smiles nervously. “O-O-One.”

    ”

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  • 5 Minute Twisted Story – I For Account – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    5 Minute Twisted Story – I For Account – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    “I said it wasn’t what I wanted, and you know THAT! I didn’t want to CUT you, but you made ME. YOU betrayed MY trust! AND YOU forced MY hand!” she seethes through saliva saturated lips that are clenched tightly together, as she thrusts the knife into his silent decaying corpse once more. The blade sticks clumsily into the dry husk, as if she was stabbing a bale of straw. “I-I-I, I didn’t want t-t-this,” she stammers as fresh tears stream down her weathered face, capturing some more wayward makeup that had still managed to stay somewhat in place from her last bevvy of tears.

    “Justification should not be given to them!” Deborah hisses as she lights her cigarette, taking a long deep drag as she does. She thrusts herself up from the seat, taking a moment to brush her P Johnson Femme suit down, before striding over to Lisa’s side. She crouches down beside her and takes another drag on her cigarette. “HE may have been the motivation, but he WASN’T the one who did the deed, that was YOU! He deserves nothing. No weight to the cause, for he’s just a number. A pathetic number on a list that should only be counted for the total, not for who is on IT!” she purrs as she gently loosens Lisa’s grip upon the knife handle and helps her to stand.

    “B-B-But w…”

    “No buts my dear, we are, we do, and we do not care for what they think.”

    “I-I-I,” she stammers as she casts a fevered glance down to his silent shell once again.

    Deborah cups her by the chin, and gently brings her gaze back to meet hers. “You loved him, didn’t you?” she asks softly.

    Lisa’s lips tighten and her eyes well up once again, and she nods softly.

    Deborah smiles awkwardly, “I thought as much,” she says as she slaps her across the face powerfully, knocking her to the ground. “SLUT!” she hisses.

    “W-W-What?” Lisa stammers as she clutches her face, and looks up at Deborah with eyes wide and full of fear and confusion.

    “YOU HEARD ME!” she spits, as she strides around Lisa’s cowering form in a dominating fashion. “I have given you EVERYTHING! A roof above your head, food in your belly, and a warm, safe place to sleep at night, and all I ask in return is that you honour what has been done, with what needs to be done. Yet, here I stand, listening to you, cry over the death of a MAN! A NUMBER! NOTHING MORE!”

    “H-H-HE TOLD ME HE LOVED ME!” she bellows back, her hands wound into tightly clenched fists, and her teeth bared, like a rabid dog.

    Deborah closes her eyes, arches her head towards the sky, and sways back and forth on the spot as if dancing to music only she can hear. “Then tell me why?” she sings. “Tell me why he is dead, and I am not?”

    “W-W-What?” she stammers.

    “It’s easy child, why did you kill him, if he loved you, and you loved him?”

    “I-I-I,” she stammers.

    “Come now girl, it’s not hard,” she says as she looks back down into Lisa’s red, swollen eyes. “Why did you kill the man you profess to love?”

    “I-I-I,” she stammers again.

    “Y-Y-You what?” Deborah purrs.

    “H-H-He l-l-li…”

    “He lied to you, didn’t he?” she asks softly, Lisa nods her head quickly in agreement. “Then, why are you so upset over the death of this lying piece of shit?”

    “B-B-Because I-I, I won’t be able to kill him again.” she stammers nervously.

    Deborah smiles broadly, “Oh honey, I’m going to have to teach you a lesson in transference.”

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  • 5 Minute Twisted Story – Just A Girl In The World – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    5 Minute Twisted Story – Just A Girl In The World – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    He looked at the shard of glass in his hand and tightened his grip. A hiss escapes his lips, followed by a sea of saliva. His eyes pulsated, growing wider with each second as the glass carved its way through the flesh. A warmth washes over his hand, followed quickly by a fresh bolt of pain that seemed almost not to be his. He smiles wryly and looks up into her wide petrified eyes with the glee of a child who had just tasted sugar for the first time.

    “D-Don’t look so scared, Fiona. It’s what you always wanted, isn’t it?” He groans with an almost sexualised flick of the tongue.

    “I-I-I, I never wanted t-this,” she stammers, her once perfect face now flush red, bruised, broken and distorted.

    He allows a half-choked laugh escape his grasp, then blinks erratically as he sucks a breath back, before squeezing the glass tighter. “YOU LIE!” he spits, as he thrusts himself to his feet, and strikes her with the back of his hand, knocking her to the ground into a naked heap. “YOU LIE!” he repeats, as he stands above her, staring down for several silent moments while a sneer cuts across his lip and burns deep into his face.

    She pulls herself up from the floor and wipes a stream of red that runs from the corner of her mouth with her bony, pale white arm. “You are such a FUCKING MAN, aren’t you?” she scoffs as her face twists and she awkwardly gets to her feet like some poorly animated cartoon character.

    His eyes widen once more, and for a moment he takes a nervous step back. “I-I-I, I don’t understand w-w-what is h-h-happening?”

    “Of course, you DON’T!” she scoffs with a cry. “You’re a MAN, and MEN think MANLY things about MANLY stuff. Not anything more. Not anything less.” She purrs with a wide toothy smile, and saunters over to him with a swing of the hip, and a slide of the leg, graceful like a ballerina, yet awkward like a newborn giraffe, all legs.

    Before he can take in her nonsensical statement she is pressing her slimy cold flesh up against him.

    “I-I-I, I,” he stammers as she thrust him up against the wall, pinning him by his arms.

    “Y-Y-You WHAT?” she spits as she pulls her head back, elongating her neck as she does, his eyes widen in terror as the fat and muscles beneath her flesh are sucked away, and her now dull grey skin tightly clutches her now bony frame, and her eyes fall back into their sockets while her unkempt wispy hair dangles eerily over her face. He screams in terror and struggles to free himself from her inhuman grasp, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot overcome Fiona’s strength. She digs her feet into the wall behind him, and pulls her arse back, proudly displaying her pulsating vagina.

    “W-W-WHAT ARE YOU?” he bellows.

    She smiles a haggard smile, and draws herself back like an animal ready to strike. “I’m just a girl in this world, trying to survive.” she purrs as rows of teeth grind together as she thrusts herself upon him, and he screams in bloody agony.

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  • 5 Minute Twisted Story – To Twist The Perfect Write – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    5 Minute Twisted Story – To Twist The Perfect Write – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    He places the bloody knife gently on the tabletop and chews on his bottom lip for what seems like an eternity. Then, without thinking, he raises a blood-soaked hand to his lips and gently nibbles on the tips of his fingernails with the skill of someone who had spent a lifetime perfecting the technique. Then, as quickly as he had checked out, he is brought back to reality with dramatic flair. Aghast, he reels back and stares with wide-eyed terror at his dripping hand, then promptly vomits.

    “That’s the sort of evidence we DON’T want to be leaving behind right there,” a voice sarcastically grunts from a few feet away.

    Jason drags his arm across his face, wiping the remaining vomit that coated his lips and wiry moustache with the sleeve of his jacket. “I-I-I… I didn’t mean t…”

    “IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT YOU MEANT TO DO!” the man spits venomously as he strides to Jason’s side, grabs a handful of his hair, and slams him into the wall. Jason collapses to the ground in an unconscious heap. “WHAT MATTERS IS WHAT YOU’VE DONE! AND YOU’VE GONE AND FUCKED IT UP FOR EVERYONE!” he screams as he stomps his boot down onto Jason’s skull several times, until it caves in, leaving nothing but a mess of blood, flesh, and bone. He turns to face Jemma, a scowl deeply etched into his forehead. His lips curl up in anger, revealing his yellow-stained teeth. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT? HE COMPROMISED US ALL! HE HAD TO STAY! HE HAD TO BE PART OF THE DESIGN! IT WAS THE ONLY WAY!” he snarls, tossing his head back to clear the rusty red curls from his face.

    “You never liked him,” Jemma spits.

    His nose twitches as he runs a hand haphazardly through his hair and then smiles. “I don’t like any of you, never have, never will,” he slurs. “So, I think it’s pretty obvious what happens NOW if you don’t follow the FUCKING program!”

    “And what if YOU decide to go off-script? Who judges YOU?”

    He turns to Jemma with a movie star grin. “I don’t go off-script baby, because I write the script,” he says smugly, as he gives her an egotistical wink and thrusts his thumbs into his chest proudly.

    She crosses her arms and nods towards Fabian’s bloody remains. “What does your script say to do about that? Did you write that into your story?”

    He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Of course, why wouldn’t I have a plan?”

    “Then, what is it? How are we going to cover up this mess?”

    “We’re not,” he declares proudly.

    Jemma looks over to Fabian’s body and then to Jason’s. Her gaze settles back on Gordon. “W-W-We can’t leave them here like this. We all know each other. The first door the cops knock on will be mine, and then yours,” she stammers.

    “No, they won’t start with your door,” he purrs.

    “Y-You think they’ll come to yours first?” she asks as she turns her gaze back to Gordon, and stares down the barrel of a revolver.

    “Maybe,” he says as he shrugs his shoulders and pulls the trigger.

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  • 5 Minute Twisted Story – It’s Not Cheating – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    5 Minute Twisted Story – It’s Not Cheating – A Short Story From The Upcoming A Twisted Halloween 2023

    The world screams at him like a small child wanting dessert, but Joel knows there’s no time for custard and cake. He mumbles a quick prayer, draws an invisible cross from his forehead to his chest, holds his breath, clenches his teeth tightly, closes his eyes, grips his groin as hard as he can with both hands, and leaps from the window just as the fire touches his skin. He covers the height of the fifteen storeys in record time and hits the ground with a crunch, screaming out in agony as both legs shatter and snap from the impact. He flails on the ground like a newborn baby, unable to walk. For a few immeasurable moments, the world is pulled away from him, and he’s dragged into one of darkness, but he blinks his eyes repeatedly and grits his teeth tightly together before he cries out loudly and digs his weakening fingers into the ground, dragging himself away from the burning building. He casts a fevered look over his shoulder, spying Heinrich watching him from a flame-encased window. Tears stream down his face as a sea of pain washes continuously over him, but in this moment, he allows himself to smile, even to laugh.

    “F-F-FUCKING told you I-I-I w-wasn’t going to be another one of y-your FUCKING victims, mate! I-I-I’m a FUCKING s-s-survivor,” Joel stammers, looking back once more, just as Heinrich launches himself out the window. For a second, his eyes widen in terror, then shift to confusion as Heinrich hits the ground headfirst, making an impact a bug hitting a windscreen would envy.

    “W-WHAT?” he laughs weakly, collapsing and clutching the ground as if it was the warm embrace of a lover. “FUCKING idiot, w-who jumps out of a w-window headfirst!” he scoffs. A smile softly caresses his lips, and he closes his eyes for a moment, hearing the distant wail of fire engines beckoning. But then his eyes shoot open in fear as the sounds of snapping bone and tearing flesh fill the air. To his horror, Heinrich is rising, his body repairing the damage from the fall, and in no time at all, the menacing figure stands above him once more.

    “W-W-WHAT THE F-F-FUCK! Y-Y-YOU CAN’T D-DO THAT! Y-Y-YOU CAN’T C-CHEAT L-LIKE THAT!”

    His head tilts to one side, and a deranged smile cuts itself across his scarred lips. “It’s only cheating because you can’t do it,” Heinrich proclaims gently, gripping Joel by his shattered legs and lifting him into the air.

    “IT’S N-N-NOT F-F-FAIR! I W-W-WON! I ESCAPED! I-I-I SHOULD B-B-BE FREE!”

    “This isn’t a game that finishes once you get out of the burning building, Joel. This is real life, and in real life, it’s not over until we’re dead.”

    “F-FUCK YOU! IF I-I-IT’S NOT A G-GAME, W-WHAT MAKES YOU S-S-SO FUCKING I-INDESTRUCTIBLE!”

    The smile on Heinrich’s lips grows wider, and he looks down at the dangling Joel once more. “I sold my soul to the devil,” he says matter-of-factly, before cracking Joel as if he was a whip, snapping his neck.

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