The Twisted

by Charles B.


"We make up horrors to help us cope with the real ones." - Stephen King

Jenny and I have been friends for years, nothing could separate us. We decided to stay the night at our friend Justin's house, because both of our parents were home. When we got there, we rang the bell and knocked on the door. No one answered, but moments later my phone dinged. A text from Justin, why don't you just open the door? I thought to myself as I opened the message. "Door open, come on down stairs." And so we did. As we entered a cheery little girl greeted us, no older than ten or so. Weird, I didn't know Justin had siblings. I thought to myself, as she led us down a dark hallway to the basement. "Are you sure we're at the right house?" Jenny whispered, voice shakey as she pulled me closer to her.

        "Yeah, I mean this is what he said earlier." I said reassuring her. But as we made our way down the old rickety wooden stairs, the lights got dimmer and dimmer. The sound of crunching and chewing echoed, bouncing off the old stone walls. Now I was truly freaked out. "Are you sure your brother is here?" I ask the little girl, and she turns around with a wide smile on her face, "Well of course silly!" she says as her cold hands took mine, almost pulling me down the stairs. We reached an old wood door, and she slowly pushed it open. "Mom, Dad! I got dinner!" she exclaimed, seeming proud. But Jenny and I look at each other, terror on our faces as we realise that Justin's parents were supposed to be out of town.

        Before we could react, a large burly man appeared from the shadows, and in his bloody hand, was Jacob's shirt. We tried to run, but the man grabbed my wrist, and threw me against the wall. The little girl gripped onto Jenny's ankle pulling her back down the stairs, and climbed on top of her pressing a dagger to her chest. Screaming, Jenny started to cry as the girl drug the knife from her chest all the way down to her hand. Another man sat beside Jenny holding her still as the girl cut squares in her arm. She put the knife down and dug her finger nails deep under the cuts, pulling up a flap of skin with it. Jenny let out a choked scream that was quickly muffled by the man holding her down. As I stood there, horrified, an elderly couple with tattered, blood stained clothing emerged from another room. "Crystal! You need to filet!" the man shouted, and she did as her father instructed. She lifted the flap of skin and slowly drug the knife, severing it from Jenny's arm. "Very good dear!" the mother said enthusiastically. Smiling, she took hold of the flap of skin, placed it on a old rusty tray next to her, and carefully brought it to her mother. Pleased, the mother took the tray and disappeared into the other room. Is this what would happen to me next? I thought to myself, lip quivering. "Help me! Please help!" Jenny screamed through choking tears as the man and Crystal drug her out of sight. The man holding me suddenly spun me around, dragging me by the collar of my sweater. And with little effort, bound me to a post and disappeared.

        Jenny's screams continued for what seemed like hours. The sound of chewing, sucking and laughing tormented me the entire night. The large man who forced me to watch, left me tied to a post with an old rope, saying he'd have his fun with me after he ate. Those words gave me the strength, the courage to break free, force my way through the door, and escape these psychos. And I did just that. With great force, I pulled back as hard as I could, snapping the rope with a great crack that tore through the air. Please don't let them catch me. I prayed as I walked carefully, over to the blood pool where the girl left the knife. I crept through the shadows, making sure to avoid the family of crazy cannibals just one room over. As I search, I stumbled over something, and fell into a pool of blood. Oh god. Please help me. I prayed as I took out my phone to see what I tripped over. When I clicked the light on, a horrified feeling washed over me, which made me shudder in fear. It was Justin's body, or what was left of it.

        Quivering in fear, I slowly walked past the door over to the staircase from which I came, and started to walk up constantly looking back. Before I could go any further, a door crashed open and the man that restrained Jenny appeared before me. He started towards me, but didn't make a sound, with a twisted look on her face. I turned to go back up the stairs, but he took a hold of my collar and slammed me into the cold stone wall. Knife still in hand, I closed my eyes and thrusted it deep into his throat. I could feel the warm blood run down my hand, I removed the blade, and his lifeless body fell down the stairs with a sickening thud.

        I sprinted as fast as I could back up the stairs, and looked behind me only to see the man that restrained me, close on my heels. As I heaved, I powered through the pain and anxiety, but he kept up with me. He grabbed my hand, and tried to pull me down, but I fought back. I turned around sharply, and swung as hard as I could, and struck him in the nose. His body fell backwards, tumbling down the stairs with the crack of each bone breaking. I continued up the stairs as fast as I could and eventually reached the wooden door. The father grabbed onto my sleeve, but I slammed the door over and over, as each slam crushed his fingers even more. Frantically, I scanned the room desperately for anything that could be useful. On the counter, was a small lit kerosene lamp, and under the table was a half filled jerry can. I unscrewed the cap, and held the lamp in my other hand, and as I walked through the house emptying the can, and as I did, I thought of Justin and Jenny. How they had died, what they had went through. I would give these monsters no mercy, so I ran out the door, locking it behind me, just in time for the father to break down the basement door, and walk through. He stared at me, eyes completely soulless, and I stared back, smiling as I dropped the lamp setting the house ablaze. I feel no shame, I thought as the screams of the demented family being burned alive have me a sense of grim satisfaction. The night had finally ended, and I felt no empathy. I was happy, now I could finally go home.

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