Twisted Shorts: Ten Chilling Short Stories

by Andrew Lennon

  “What?” Paul looked at his father. “No, honestly, Dad I’m fine, Mum I’m not sick. I’m just feeling a bit tired that’s all.”

  His dad smiled, “Just a bit tired eh? Well, maybe we should put you to sleep.”

  “Yeah,” Paul sighed, “I’ll go to bed in, wait, what?”

  Paul looked up at his father. He didn’t recognise the man in front of him. The face was the same, but there was something wrong with his eyes. Those eyes did not belong to his father, they belonged to a killer. Paul tried to say something but the words would not come from his mouth.

  “Paul, really what is the matter with you?” his mother asked. “You look like you’re going…”

  Her talking was replaced with a gurgling sound. A steak knife was sticking out from her throat. Lily screamed.

  “Lily! Run, get out of the house now!” Paul shouted.

  His father jumped from his chair with the agility of a child, he had not moved so quickly in years. He grabbed Paul's sister by the head and threw her across the room. A horrible cracking sound rang through Paul’s ears as Lily’s head made contact with the wall. She wasn’t moving, he didn’t know if she was alive or not.

  Paul managed to run through the doorway just as he heard the sound of a chair crashing behind him. His father had thrown it in his direction and must have only just missed.

  He reached the front door. It was locked and no key was in sight.

  Paul’s thoughts were racing. Maybe Gavin’s father, the horrible violent drunk, yes maybe he would do something like this, but not Paul’s father. Paul’s dad loved him.

  No, there wasn’t time to start with these silly thoughts. He couldn’t just stand around waiting for his father to come and kill him. He had to find a way out. What about Lily? He couldn’t just leave her here. She might still be alive! Why was this happening? Was his father part of some crazy cult? Was he possessed?

  “You know, Paul,” his father whispered in his ear from behind him. “Sometimes you just don’t need a reason.”

  Tears of a Clown

  “Bozo! Bozo! Bozo! Bozo!” Children chanted in unison.

  “Leave me alone! Just leave me alone!” Billy shouted.

  He tried to push his way through his crowd of tormentors. One child pushed him back and he fell over, banging his head on the floor. He began to scream. The children all laughed and ran away.

  Billy was born different to other children. He had very pale skin. It was not Caucasian, it was white. Similar to albino or the finest white emulsion. His hair was bright red. He had a terrible immune system and therefore was constantly suffering from a cold or flu. Because of this, his nose was permanently red, and his lips were chapped and crimson. At a glance, you would mistake his appearance for makeup and guess that he had his face painted similar to that of a clowns. This earned him the nickname “Bozo”.

  He was invited to all the other children’s birthday parties. Not because they wanted him there, but because they were made to invite everybody in their class. Of course, he never accepted. He knew that those parties would have a clown. He was already punished enough. He wasn’t so stupid that he wanted to turn up at a birthday party as well.

  As he grew older, Billy’s torment became worse. Throughout high school, his bullies became more original. They tried to make their attacks clown themed so that it was more suited to Billy. He had condom balloon animals tied to him, he had cream pies that were filled with bodily fluids thrown at him. He found himself waking up in hospital after being hit with a mallet in true comedy style.

  He was lucky to have survived childhood at all.

  Finding a job was not easy for Billy. First impressions make a big impact on employers. They couldn’t help but judge Billy by his looks. It was recommended to him more than once that perhaps he should consider joining the circus.

  It didn’t matter where Billy went, he could not escape his torment.

  Children pointed and laughed when they walked by. The adults did not point, but they still laughed. Even as an adult, he had received several beatings just because of the way he looked. He hated everyone and everything. All clowns are painted to look happy, but underneath their makeup is a flood of tears. Billy never cried, he accepted what he was at a very young age. He knew that people would never accept him for who he was.

  They would only ever see Bozo the Clown.

  Billy walked home from another failed job interview. He couldn't drive, his extremely large feet made it too difficult for him to touch the pedals, let alone get a licence. He would not get public transport because he couldn’t be bothered with the torment in such a confined space. He walked along being pelted with strong wind and rain. A piece of paper blew into his face. He grabbed it and pulled it away from his mouth. It was a flyer for the travelling circus. The main feature of the flyer was a big, red nosed clown. Billy laughed, could this world torment him anymore? If clowns didn’t exist he wouldn’t even have this problem. People would have nothing to compare him too. Yes he may look different, but he wouldn’t be a symbol of laughter.

  Billy thought about going to the circus and taking out all the clowns, but there would be too many people. He wouldn’t get past the first one without somebody stopping him. He wouldn’t achieve what he wanted to do. He decided to put a real plan into place.

  It took all morning, but finally Billy had finished decorating his house. He had balloons and banners all over the windows and doors. He had party music playing. It was nearly one o' clock. The entertainment was due to arrive any minute now. He was shaking with excitement. He could hardly wait. The doorbell rang. Billy opened the door.

  “Hey! You order a…what the hell kind of clown are you?”

  “I’m the original kind,” Billy said. “Come on, party is this way”

  He led the clown through the hallway, opened the door for him and let him enter first. “Where is everyone?” The clown asked

  Billy yelled, “Surprise!”

  He smashed the clown in the forehead with a claw hammer. Blood spattered all over Billy’s face. It spurted from the clowns head like a scarlet fountain. In silence, the clown slumped to the floor. Billy dragged him across the room and sat him on the couch.

  Two o' clock came. The doorbell rang.

  “It’s open, come in!”

  He could hear large clumsy feet making their way down the hallway. When the door opened, he drove the large knife into the second clown's stomach. He giggled as he repeatedly pulled the knife out and then stabbed it back into the clown over and over again. The clown didn’t have a chance to scream, he made a strange gurgling sound and eventually, holding his stomach, fell to the floor. Billy dragged him over to the couch and placed him next to the other clown.

  Three o' clock. The doorbell rang.

  “It’s open, come on in!”

  Again he waited, listening to the banging of the oversized shoes moving along the hall way. The door opened.

  “Like my flower?” Billy asked.

  “Huh?” the clown managed to reply.

  Before the clown had time to react, his face was covered in acid that had squirted from the head of the flower. The clown screamed and grabbed his face, the skin was pulling away, just melting and slivering from his face. Billy giggled and watched as the clown rolled around on the floor holding his bloody face. When the clown became still, Billy sliced a knife through his throat, just to make sure. He placed him on the couch with his friends.

  Four o' clock. The doorbell rang.

  “Come in!”

  Billy giggled. He could hear running down the hallway. He stood on the other side of the door, waiting for his next victim. He was especially excited to do this one. He had his big old mallet ready to use on this one, in true clown form. The door opened and Billy swung the mallet directly to the side of the head.

  A young boy, maybe twelve-years-old fell to the floor, the side of his head caved in from the impact of the mallet, a large pool of red began to circle him. He looked up at Billy, a daz
ed confused look on his face.

  “I came to see the clowns,” he mumbled.

  Billy dropped the mallet. Tears streamed down his pasty white cheeks. He fell to his knees.

  “What have I done?”

  Time

  Chapter 1

  It had been a really long day and I was looking forward to getting home from work. Although my mind had been elsewhere all day, I managed to get everything done. But what I really wanted to do was get back to work on my novel, a cheesy science fiction story about aliens who come to earth to try and teach us the error of our ways by killing anyone who doesn’t follow their lead. Just like the humans do. Maybe it will never be a best seller, but I enjoy writing it.

  When I got home, my wife, Sadie, was waiting for me at the table with dinner ready. Candles were lit next to an icebox with a bottle of wine sticking out of it. It didn’t take a genius to see that she had something important to tell me.

  Sadie and I lived in a small but comfortable house about five miles outside of the city centre. It had two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a living room. It was what people called a 'two up, two down'. With only the two of us living in the house, the second bedroom was used as a spare. We had been hoping that one day, a child would come along and we could paint the room pink, or blue, put a crib in there and then cover the walls with paintings of Disney characters. We were only in our mid-twenties, so there was no rush. The time would come.

  “So,” I asked. “What’s the occasion?”

  I knew it wasn’t our anniversary as that was last month. I did remember.

  “Sit down and you’ll find out won’t you,” she said.

  I sat at the table and waited anxiously. I had no clue as what it was she wanted to tell me, I couldn’t even hazard a guess. After what seemed like forever, but was most likely only a few minutes, Sadie brought our dinner to the table. She had made roast beef with mashed potatoes, gravy and peas, one of my favourites. She sat down.

  “Well,” I stood and poured the wine. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Not for me. Thanks,” she said.

  I looked at her, blank.

  “The wine,” she said, “not for me thanks.”

  “Oh, um OK, just for me then?”

  She started to eat her meal and I could see that she was building up to tell me.....something, it must be important. Finally she spoke.

  “I was thinking, maybe now it’s time we decorated that spare room.”

  “What were you planning on?” I asked, not really wanting to decorate the room. I was busy writing my novel, I didn’t want to waste time painting or wallpapering a room that nobody ever even sees.

  “Well that depends,” Sadie replied.

  “Depends on what? You not got any ideas?” I asked. She still hadn’t told me what the occasion was.

  She looked at me and smiled “It depends on whether it’s a boy, or a girl.”

  I was confused, “What the hell do you mean if it’s a boy or....”

  Suddenly I realised what she was telling me.

  “Wait, you mean…” I stood up, my stomach doing somersaults, my head spinning with excitement. “You mean, we’re gonna…”

  “Yes,” she said. “We’re gonna have a baby!”

  “Yes!" I shouted.

  I moved quickly around the table, grabbed her around the waist, pulled her towards me and kissed her. I stopped and looked her straight in the eyes. I had never felt so much emotion before. I felt like I could cry.

  “I’m gonna be a daddy?”

  “Yes, you’re going to be the best daddy.”

  Forgetting the dinner entirely, we celebrated by doing the same activity that had created our new found news. Afterwards, we cuddled and lay in the centre of the bed staring at each other. We didn’t speak, we didn’t need to, and we just looked into each other's eyes. We had created life.

  Sadie went for a soak in the tub, I decided do some more work on my novel. I was going to be busy from now on, decorating rooms, baby shopping, preparing to be a daddy. So I had to make the most of it while I could. I sat at my desk and began to type. As always I began to lose track of time. I let myself disappear into my trance, into my fictional world in which I dictate what happens. I was on a roll tonight, I managed to get just over two thousand words down. I was so full of joy that words just spilled onto the pages effortlessly. I glanced at the clock. It was 10.30.

  “Oh, God,” I said to myself. “I’ve been writing for hours.”

  I assumed Sadie had fallen asleep in the bath, it wouldn’t be the first time and today she was probably drained from the all the emotion. I decided to go and wake her and take her to bed.

  I tried to stand, but I couldn’t, my legs were too weak. I pushed as hard as I could but I only lifted half an inch from the seat. My back was in agony.

  “Sadie!” I shouted “Sadie come here, I can’t get up!”

  I was waiting for her to come into the room laughing at me. I'd probably given myself dead legs from sitting at the desk for so long. I tried to stand again, nothing.

  “Sadie!” I shouted again.

  I could hear her coming, she was almost running.

  Slow down, I thought, you shouldn’t be running in your condition.

  “What’s the matter?” a woman asked me.

  “Sadie I can’t get…” I turned and looked at the stranger stood behind me “Who are you? Where's Sadie!”

  The woman looked at me, saddened and tired.

  She sighed. “Come on Dad, we've been through this. Sadie isn’t here anymore, she’s gone.”

  She began wheeling my chair out of the room.

  Why am I in a wheel chair?

  She was wheeling me out of a room I didn’t recognise, there was a man stood at the door. I didn’t recognise him.

  “He’s having another bad day I think,” the strange woman said.

  Chapter 2

  I was wheeled to another room, there was a tall mirror on the wall. I sat staring into the mirror. An old man was looking back at me. His hair was grey and thin. He didn’t look to be in the best health, he had an expression on his face of complete shock.

  “Who the hell are you?” He shouted…I shouted.

  This had to be some kind of dream. I had fallen asleep at my desk, and any minute now I was going to wake up. I would be sitting in front of my computer staring at my novel. Yes that was it, I remembered.

  “Hey you, girl!” I shouted.

  The woman walked in to the room.

  “Girl. Well, that’s very nice isn’t it, Dad? Girl, I don’t know anyone by that name. My name is Hayley, thank you very much.”

  “Right, right OK,” I replied with a lack of patience. “Hayley, where is my novel?”

  “What novel?” she asked.

  “What the hell do you mean, what novel? My novel, you stupid girl! The one I was writing before I fell asleep.”

  Hayley sighed. She had a look of deep regret on her face. There was something familiar in her expression.

  “Dad, listen, you haven’t written anything for years. You stopped all that when mum got sick, don’t you remember?”

  “Who the hell are you? Why do you keep calling me Dad? I’m not your father, and where is my wife!”

  She ran out the room in tears, I heard her shout. “John, you’re gonna have to see to him, I can’t do this anymore.”

  A man entered the room.

  “John, I presume?” I looked at him with a hardened stare.

  “Come on, Bill.” He said. “You can’t keep shouting at her like that, it’s not fair.”

  “Who the hell are you? How do you know my name? Who are you people?”

  He shook his head, his face a picture of disappointment and sat on the bed next to my chair.

  “We have been through this, Bill. I’m John, that lovely woman through there is my wife, Hayley. You know, the woman who has been taking care of you for the last year, your daughter.”

  “Don’t be s
o bloody stupid, I haven’t got a daughter, not yet. Sadie told me she was pregnant but only just, the baby’s not due for at least seven months.”

  “No, Bill, you have had one of your dreams again. You are a Dad, Hayley was born forty five years ago. Your wife, Sadie…” He took a breath. “Sadie died two years ago.”

  I started to cry. What was going on? Had my life passed already and I’d forgotten the whole thing? No, it couldn’t have, I remember, it was only an hour ago I was writing my novel. It was only this afternoon that I was told I’m going to be a dad.

  “No,” I shouted. “You’re wrong, this is just a dream! It’s just…”

  My breath ran away from me, my chest felt as though it was closing in on itself. I had a shooting pain down the side of my body, I could feel myself going numb. The room became a blur. I could hear something, I could hear someone shouting.

  “Bill! Bill! Oh God, Hayley quick call an ambulance! He’s having a stroke!”

  Chapter 3

  When I awoke, I was staring at a bright light. I turned my head to see a woman standing over me. It was Sadie, she had been crying.

  “What’s the matter, love?”

  “Oh, Dad, it’s just…”

  Wait a minute? Dad? I blinked a few times to clear my vision, it wasn’t Sadie, and it wasn’t my wife. It was that woman from before, that Hayley.

  “Listen, ahem, Hayley, I’m sorry, I don’t know if you’re sick or confused but I’m not your –”

  She cut me off before I could finish. “Dad, you’re sick. The doctor says it could be anytime now.”

  Her crying had gotten heavier, I was still very confused as to what was happening, and I couldn’t wake from this dream. Was this really happening? Was this woman I was looking at my daughter?

  “You’re my daughter?” I asked. I didn’t sound like me, my voice sounded, frail, old.

  “Yes,” she replied “I’m your daughter, Hayley. You remember? Me you and Mum, Sadie, we’ve been through a lot you know. You remember John, my husband? I’m just so sorry I never got to give you grandchildren, I just… Oh God, Dad, I’m so sorry.”