Twisted Shorts: Ten Chilling Short Stories

by Andrew Lennon

  The doctor laughed and placed the bowl on Scott’s stomach. “Doesn’t that one sound special?” Dr Harrison asked.

  Scott’s bladder let loose. He could feel his urine trickling along his leg. He began to cry again.

  “Oh, Scott. Look at what you've done now.” He removed the bowl. “Don’t worry I’m not doing that anyway. You see I told you daddy’s girl was special, she was unique. You don’t really think I would do something that had been done before do you? Well do you?”

  Scott shook his head.

  “No. I wanted something that was one of a kind. I decided that I would put my skills to use. I am a surgeon after all. You can’t feel it because of the anaesthetic I gave you, but if you look down to your stomach, you should be able to see some new additions. This is why I didn’t restrict your head, you see.”

  Scott’s chest was strapped down so he couldn’t sit, but he was able to lift his head to see the skin on his stomach stretched and raised in several places. It looked like there were golf balls under his skin. He panicked and tried to struggle free.

  “Like I said, Scott, I wouldn’t struggle. You’ll do yourself damage. The balls I have placed under your skin are very fragile. Have you ever broken a Christmas bauble? I’m sure you have. Well anyway, those balls in your stomach are made of a very thin glass. It is as fragile as a Christmas bauble. Here, listen.”

  The doctor pressed gently on one of the balls. Scott heard a slight crack.

  “Please…stop!” Scott screamed “Help! Someone!”

  “Honestly, Scott. Do you really think I’m stupid enough to bring you where anyone could hear you scream? Please. Anyway, you don’t even know what’s in these balls yet.”

  “W…w…what’s in them?”

  The doctor stood over Scott and held a glass ball in his hand. He showed it to Scott. Inside there were some kind of bugs. Scott turned his head to the side and vomited. Were those bugs really inside him? Or was this another sick story the doctor was using to torture him.

  “What the hell are they?” Scott asked.

  “They are called Dermestids. Have you heard of them?”

  “N…n…no.”

  “Hmm…they’re also known as Flesh Eating Beetles.”

  “What the fuck! Get them out. Please, I’m sorry!”

  “Now now, Scott. Remember, if you struggle, you may crack that glass. You see I thought that these little guys were pretty special. Did you know that sometimes they’re used in crime scene investigations? It’s true. These little fellas eat away all of the flesh and they leave a perfectly clean bone, thus not affecting any marks that may help to diagnose the cause of death. Cool, hey.”

  Scott’s bladder released again. This time his bowels emptied as well.

  “Oh, God. Scott, that’s fucking disgusting! I really don’t know what Jane saw in you. Anyway, besides CSI, did you know that these little beetles are also used in taxidermy? Basically, they pick a cadaver clean. This way they don’t have to use harsh chemicals that can damage the bones. So, I’m sure you can see just how efficient these beetles are.”

  “Please, Dr Harrison. Don’t kill me. I didn’t…”

  “Oh, I’m not going to kill you, Scott. I’m not a murderer. You see. I have been watching you for a long time, ever since you decided to get drunk and take my daughter's life. From then, I have watched you over and over again. You like to get drunk with an aim to destroy your life. You want an early death, is that it?”

  “Please, no.”

  “I have seen you slowly killing yourself every day. Using the very poison that took my girl! So no. I am not a murderer, Scott. I am not going to kill you. You’ve been trying so hard to do it yourself I thought I would just speed up the process for you.”

  Dr Harrison pulled a large leather strap from underneath the bed. He pulled it over Scott’s stomach and strapped it on either side of the bed. It lay perfectly across each of the embedded balls.

  “Now, Scott. When you decide that your time has come, all you have to do is struggle. Natural struggling will force the body to tense and push the stomach out. With this belt, the slightest push will be enough to break those glass balls and then these little fellas can enjoy their dinner.”

  “Please!” Scott screamed. “Just let me go!”

  “I’d like to say it was nice knowing you, Scott. But it wasn’t. I wouldn’t hold on too long by the way. The anaesthetic I gave you will wear off in the next hour or so. When that happens you’re going to feel every single thing those beetles do. Good riddance, Scott."

  The doctor turned off the overhead light and started to walk out the room.

  “You can’t do this!” Scott screamed as the doctor closed the door. “Hhhheeeellllpppp!"

  Scott screamed as loud as he could. He tried to sit up to remove the belt.

  He heard the cracking.

  It sounded like someone walking on glass.

  “Oh, shit.”

  Slayer

  “Come on, keep up!” Russell shouted.

  Gregg tried to run faster but he struggled to keep up with his friend. He was short and overweight for his age. He hated when Russell turned everything into a race. It was the same result every time. Russell would sprint away laughing and shouted for Gregg to keep up. Gregg would fall further and further behind until he was breathless and bright red in the face.

  Russell turned to see that Gregg had fallen way back. He stopped for a moment, beckoning him to run faster. Gregg stopped running and gave him the finger, then he sat down. Russell jogged over and sat next to him.

  Russell was tall and slim, he was very athletic. He was in the rugby team, the basketball team and the athletics squad. Gregg, however, liked to sit at home and play on his Xbox.

  Gregg beat Russell every time when they played Left 4 Dead, however, Russell beat Gregg overall in general day to day life. Russell was a hit with the ladies, Gregg never had any. Russell was always surrounded with friends, Gregg had Russell and that was pretty much it. But Russell liked Gregg, yes, he had a lot of friends but none of them were genuine like Gregg. He knew that he could always rely on him to be up front and honest with him.

  “Why do you always have to run everywhere?” Gregg panted.

  “Because it’s fun,” Russell replied. “Besides, let’s be honest, it’s not gonna do you any harm.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Haha, woah there big guy, less of the hostility.”

  “Well, don’t start giving me exercise speeches.”

  “OK, fine. Come on, if we don’t get home soon we’re not going to have time to watch it.”

  “Fine, but I’m not running.”

  Gregg straightened up and then both of the boys continued to walk along the road.

  They wanted to get back to Russell’s house in time to watch the Director's Cut of Zombie Slayer 4. It had become a bit of a ritual for the boys. Every Saturday, then would go to Russell’s and watch a horror movie. They were going through a bit of a zombie phase right now so they were methodically going through the entire Zombie Slayer series.

  The walk from the video shop was about thirty minutes. It would be a five minute run to Russell, but after a little bit of moaning from Gregg, the run was always cut short seconds after it started.

  Strolling along, they talked about how cool the movie was going to be. This one apparently had more blood spatter than any of the others and Gregg heard rumours that there was one bit where you see one of the zombies get his head completely crushed by some big muscle guy, with his bare hands!

  “OK, well, whether you want to run or not, you have to now, man,” Russell said.

  They'd reached the main road across from Russell’s house. Three lanes wide and constantly filled with speeding traffic, it was commonly joked between kids that crossing this road was like playing a life-size game of Frogger.

  “Yeah, I know, I know.” Gregg sighed.

  “Well, I don’t wanna get flattened, do you?” Russell joked.

  “Shut
up.”

  “Oh, come on!” Russell laughed.

  He ran out into the road, still looking at Gregg as he did so.

  Out of nowhere, Russell was smashed by a lorry driving at 60mph. Russell’s body flew through the air, limp as a rag doll. Gregg stood dumfounded, his mouth gaped open as he watched his friend land with a sickening, soggy splat on the road. The lorry driver braked but the momentum of the lorry kept it moving. Russell’s body was yanked back up by one of the wheels. It was dragged under the lorry, the flesh burning away as it pulled along at high speed.

  Eventually the lorry stopped. Gregg could see nothing of his friend. All that was visible to him was the crimson streak where he had been scraped along the road. The rest of him was under the lorry, somewhere.

  For weeks after Russell’s death, Gregg cried himself to sleep. He couldn’t get the horrific image of his friend being dragged across the road out of his mind. In reality, it had been a blur, he'd disappeared underneath the lorry so fast. In Gregg’s memory he could see Russell being pulled along, his head sticking out from the wheel arch, screaming for help. The thoughts were always the same.

  And I just stood and watched him die.

  But there was nothing he could do. If he tried to sleep, he dreamed about it. So he just sat and cried, and eventually sleep took him into his own little slice of death.

  The healing process was delayed more due to the fact that Russell was still yet to have a funeral. Gregg couldn’t understand why it was taking so long. He wanted to say goodbye to his friend. He was told that it was because the coroner was having to do a lot of work on Russell to make him “presentable”.

  He knew that was a load of crap because there was almost nothing of Russell left, from what he had seen. He was also told that it was delayed because the police were investigating the cause of death. Again, he thought that was rubbish because cause of death was blatantly obvious. “Flattened by a lorry," as Russell had said. Unless of course the driver had been drinking or something? Perhaps that could delay it a bit, Gregg didn’t know and he didn’t care. He just wanted them to hurry up so he could say goodbye.

  “Gregg, come and get your dinner!” He heard his mum call.

  “Coming!”

  Gregg slid himself out of bed and made his way downstairs. As he was passing the phone, it began to ring.

  “Hello,” Gregg answered.

  “Where the hell are you?”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Who is this?”

  “What do you mean, who is this? It’s Russell you dildo!”

  “What?” Gregg asked, a lump in his throat. Tears were filling his eyes.

  “I said, it’s Russell. Where the hell are you?”

  “Fuck you,” Gregg slammed the phone down.

  When he walked into the kitchen his mum could see the tears in his eyes. She could see that his face was flushed red with anger. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “It’s nothing, Mum. Just some prank caller.” He sat and ate his dinner in silence. Then he went back to bed.

  Later that night the phone rang again. Gregg’s mum answered.

  “Gregg! It’s for you!”

  Who the hell is calling for me? “OK, I’m coming!”

  He took the phone from his mum and put it to his ear. Before he was able to speak, a voice cut him off. “Where are you?”

  Gregg, now grinding his teeth asked, “What did you say?”

  “Come on, man! Zombie Slayer, remember?”

  The breath ran away from Gregg. Nobody else knew of their plans to watch that movie. It was their thing.

  “R…r…Russell?” he asked

  “Yes, Russell! Who the fuck you think it’s gonna be, Batman?”

  “But…but you….”

  “But nothing, come on, man. I’ve been waiting for you all day to watch this movie. Saturday is horror day, remember.”

  “Yeah, I remember. I’ll be there soon.”

  Gregg hung up the phone and in a trance like state, he walked to his bedroom to get dressed.

  When Gregg left, he told his mum that he was going to Russell’s house. His mum didn’t question him. She thought that maybe he wanted to go and see how Russell’s parents were. The boys spent a lot of time at each other's houses so it was only natural that over time they became friendly with the parents as well.

  Gregg thought about running, just so that he could get there quicker, to see if it was actually Russell who called, or if he'd just gone crazy. But then he decided that if it was Russell, if he really was there, he would get a kick at the thought of Gregg running over. So he chose to walk instead.

  Night crept up on him as he made his way to Russell’s house. He hadn’t realised just how late it had gotten. When he arrived, the house was in darkness. A sense of unease rose in him. He paused for a moment and questioned whether he should be here or not. He knocked on the door.

  The door opened, someone stood in the doorway, but it was dark. Gregg couldn’t make out who it was.

  “You coming in or not?”

  “R…R…Russell?” Gregg asked.

  “Yeah, of course Russell, what’s with you lately?”

  Gregg entered the house. Russell led him through the hallway and up the stairs, towards his bedroom. It was so dark with all the lights off. Gregg could just about see where he was going from the moonlight shining through the window from the early night sky.

  When they entered Russell’s room, Gregg took it upon himself to turn the light on.

  The thing that stood in front of him almost made Gregg puke.

  Half of Russell’s face was gone. It had been scraped away. There wasn’t even any facial structure left from his skull. Just a large, pulpy hole. His arm was so badly broken that it was bending the wrong way. His hip was protruding through his skin and one of his feet looked as though it was purely hanging on by the ripped tendons.

  “Holy shit, Russell.”

  “What?” Russell asked.

  “Look at you, you’re…..you’re dead.” Gregg whimpered.

  “Yeah, so. You can’t say you’re surprised. You watched me die.”

  “But how are you?” He stuttered. “How are you…..here?”

  “Fucked if I know,” Russell laughed, “but I am here, so may as well make the most of it.”

  “B…b…but…”

  “Oh, shut up! B…b…but, that’s all you’ve said. We gonna watch Zombie Slayer 4 or not?”

  Gregg didn’t know what to say, he was too shocked to think, let alone speak. He sat himself down on Russell’s bed ready to watch the film.

  Russell fumbled around for a bit with the tape in his one good hand. “Um, fancy giving me a hand here, buddy?” He joked.

  “Oh, um…yeah sure.”

  Gregg put the tape in and the sat next to Russell on the bed. The movie started.

  They sat in silence as the movie played. Gregg didn’t notice what was happening, since he was too distracted at the thought of his dead friend sitting next to him. He carried on looking at him and turned away when Russell noticed. He knew that Russell could see him staring, but what did he expect? The kid was dead for God’s sake.

  Gregg tried to keep his eyes fixed on the TV now. He already felt uncomfortable as it was, without being caught staring. Russell leaned over to him and put what was left of his mouth on Gregg’s neck. Gregg fell off the bed.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” He shouted.

  “Eating, I’m a zombie, remember?” Russell laughed.

  “Argh, what the fuck, no, no, no, no…” Gregg started to cry.

  “I’m joking, Gregg. Calm down for Christ sake. Just thought I’d lighten the mood a bit.”

  “Umm, yeah…very funny,” Gregg replied. “I’m gonna go take a piss.”

  “Oh, come on, you scared of the zombie? Russell chuckled.

  “Shut up, dickhead.”

  Gregg stormed out of the room. It was so dark, he struggled to see
where he was going. He felt his way to the bathroom. He eventually found the door handle and opened the door. When he turned on the light, he screamed. The bathroom was painted red.

  Russell’s parents were lying in the bath tub, severed into bloody pieces.

  “What’s the matter? I heard screaming,” Russell asked from behind.

  Gregg shivered with fear.

  “Your parents. What did you do to them?” He whispered.

  “Oh, they carried on screaming every time they looked at me. It was pissing me off. So I shut them up.” Russell said this so casually that Gregg felt a wave of terror seep through him.

  “How could you do that to your own…….”

  “I told you,” Russell interrupted. “They were pissing me off, and now you’re starting to piss me off as well.”

  Gregg froze in fear. He stared at the look of evil in Russell’s eyes.

  “That look,” Russell said “That's the look you had on your face when you watched me die.”

  “I…I…didn’t,” Gregg mumbled. “I couldn’t…”

  “I’m going to kill you, Gregg. Hahaha. I’m going to cut your face off so it looks like mine!”

  Russell charged towards Gregg. The foot that had been barely hanging on dropped off and he fell to the side. Gregg took this opportunity and ran past him and down the stairs. He headed for the front door.

  It was locked.

  In a panic, he repeatedly tried to open the door, over and over again. When he turned around Russell had already made his way down the stairs. Gregg ran to the kitchen and tried the back door.

  “That’s locked as well,” Russell called.

  He charged at Gregg again. He was unbelievably agile considering he only had one foot!

  Gregg grabbed one of the pans hanging above the kitchen counter and swung it at Russell’s face. The edge of the pan slipped into the hole on the side of his face, it took more of the skin away as the swing followed through.

  Russell fell to the ground

  Gregg had tears streaming down his face. He stood over his friend. “I’m sorry, Russell,” he cried, “but I have to. You’re not you.”