Twisted Endings: 5 Disturbing Stories (6 page)

“You let her get away!” a voice said from somewhere. “Open this thing! Hurry!”

Jen heard keys jingling as they came out of someone’s pocket.
Oh God. I made it this far. Get up, Jen!
She jumped up and stumbled just as the gate opened and the monsters barreled out.

The main tent was 50 feet away. She tried to scream again. Still nothing. She moved her feet as fast as she could, until she got there.

The attendant outside said, “Ticket please.” He studied her face like she was an alcoholic.

“Help me,” she heard herself say in an unfamiliar scratchy voice. She could see her captors less than ten feet away. She looked inside the tent and saw scores of people, possibly hundreds.

She busted through the entrance and disappeared in the crowd.

“Hey,” she heard the attendant shout after her, “you can’t go in there without a ticket!”

A number of smaller tents were inside with games and fortunetellers. Jen made sure she was deep enough in the crowd before escaping into one of the tents. She knew the men wouldn’t take the chance of coming after her in here. She just needed to think. There had to be a way out of here.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Jen saw an old woman sitting at a small table. “Oh, thank God.” Good, her voice was returning. “I need help. Someone’s trying to hurt me. Do you have a phone? I need a phone.”

“I have something much better than that.”

“What? No. I need a phone. Please.” Jen started crying. “Carla,” it occurred to her. “It could have been Carla. And Ashley, no.”

“I will read your fortune now.”

Jen walked up to the woman and screamed, “Listen to me! I don’t believe in your crap! You have to help me! Cops! Security! Surely you have security!”

The old woman stared at her. “Do you think you’re the first?”

Jen gulped. Who did this woman think she was? She couldn’t imagine what Jen had gone through.

“Do you think you’ll be the last?”

She took a step forward. “What are you talking about?” The old woman didn’t know what was going on. She couldn’t. Jen noticed the crystal ball on the woman’s quaint, round table for the first time. How many suckers had looked into that ball to see whatever their minds had wanted them to see?
That’s just great. A gypsy.

The old woman stood and placed her hands on the ball. Her fingertips seemed to glow, faintly at first, then brighter than the lights in the main tent. She never broke eye contact with Jen.

Jen gawked in amazement. The old woman released her hands from the ball and took a deep breath before returning to her seat. The crystal ball began to glow with the same light she had projected onto it.

“Come, dear child,” the woman demanded. “I cannot retain the power forever.”

Jen looked behind her, looked at the ball, then stepped toward the woman and sat across from her. She couldn’t take her eyes off the glowing crystal ball.

“Hold my hand, dear. Don’t be afraid.”

Jen hesitated but gave in and reached her hand across the table. The woman’s hand was gentle and warm.

“Now look into the ball. It will reveal all.”

Swirling clouds filled the center of the ball. The glowing faded, and Jen was disappointed, but then appeared some unmistakable images. She convulsed in disgust and turned away. “This is the future?”

“If you make it so.”

The old woman released her grip and the images in the ball disappeared. The room seemed dark at that moment. What Jen had seen was not possible. Not in this world.

“I wish. But how could I accomplish such a thing?”

The old woman smiled for the first time. She reached beneath the table and returned with a small flask full of a clear liquid. “With this. I have spent many years making this for you. The time has come.”

Jen looked at the liquid and considered the consequences. “I don’t know if I can do this.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “Who are you? How is any of this possible?”

The old woman stared at her and smiled.

Jen stood and prepared to walk out. This isn’t something she was ready to deal with. “Thank you, but....” She looked at the flask. Something within her shouted
Take it, take it! They deserve it!
She reached across the table and grabbed the flask.

“You’re forgetting something.”

Jen looked at the woman, confused. “What? No. I have the flask.”

The woman shook her head and pointed to her right. A large sign on the side of the tent read: Fortunes read for $2. Jen apologized and fished two dollars out of her pocket.

“Such a small price for something so big.”

“Only you can determine the value.”

Jen understood what the woman meant. She thanked her and scouted the landscape outside the tent. Her captors could be anywhere. No, she wouldn’t do this. She couldn’t.

“Jen,” the old woman called behind her. “You’ll be okay. You should know, I was the first.”

JEN STEPPED out of the main tent and stared at the tent where John housed the amazing flea circus. The lights were off. The gate was still open. What were the chances that he was inside? She looked down at the flask, took a deep breath and walked toward the tent.

This could be suicide. It’s insane.
But the images she had seen in the crystal ball prophesied otherwise. She jumped when a leaf landed on her arm. Her breathing became quicker as she approached the flea man’s tent.

She stared at the gate for more than a minute before tugging on it. It seemed like a trap.
You’re safe. Just keep walking. Get in. Get out.

She scoped the aisles when she entered the tent. She convinced herself no one was around.
This is the only way.
She ran to the suitcase on top of the table now.
It’s still here. Thank God.

Jen opened the suitcase and smiled to find the small plastic sleeves the fleas were said to be housed in. She checked behind her every few seconds to make sure she was alone. She ripped open the sleeves, released their contents on top of the steel table and took one final look at the flask.

“Here goes nothing.” She emptied the clear liquid over the supposed fleas and stood back.

Within seconds, soft screeching sounds came forth from the table. They became louder. A black limb, or tentacle, shot over the tabletop.

Jen bolted for the exit.
It’s true! It’s all true!
She stopped outside the gate. Still no sign of the flea man or Bill. The plan couldn’t work without them. She had to make sure everything happened as the crystal ball had promised. She had to know.

Jen entered the main tent again. The attendant was no longer present. A huge perpetual clock showed that Bobo the Bear would be on in three minutes.
Perfect
. She stepped into the bleachers and took a seat. She wouldn’t miss this show for the world.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for...”

Jen knew that voice. She would never forget it. She focused on the man speaking in the center of the ring.
It’s him. It’s the flea man.

“Bobo the Bear!” John motioned towards an entrance for the bear. The bear didn’t come out. “Bobo the Bear!” he repeated

The crowd’s applause stopped when a hideous black creature entered the ring behind him. 

“And now, Bobo will—” John fell silent. He stared at the parasite. It dragged itself toward him on long rear claws and what appeared to be two front legs. It stood six feet tall. Its body seemed to be made of steel, covered in sharp hairs and spikes. Its movements were slow, calculated, like a lion preparing to pounce on its prey.

Another parasite entered the ring, but this one appeared to be dragging a live animal behind it. The animal was mangled and squealed like a wild pig.

Jen smiled.

As it drew closer to the crowd, it became clear that the thing being dragged was a man.

Hello, Bill.

“Oh my God!” a woman shouted. “We’ve got to get outta here!”

Two more parasites appeared at the entrances on either side of the tent. They stood on their hind claws, making them nine feet tall. They hissed at the crowd. The screaming in the audience was unbearable.

Everyone watched as one of the parasites dragged Bill to the far right of the ring, where the high wire act took place. Another of the parasites left his post by the entrance and joined them at the high wire. It brandished rows of teeth larger than machetes and sharper than scalpels, and used them to shred the safety net beneath the high wire. The parasite jumped up to the high wire in less than two seconds.

The crowd gasped.

“What the —?” the man next to Jen said.

“Haven’t you heard?” she asked. “Fleas can pull 160,000 times their own weight and jump 150 times their own length.”

Several people looked at her with reddened faces and swollen eyes. She shrugged.

“Look, everything’s going to be okay. They’re not going to hurt us. It’s those two that the fleas want,” she said, pointing to John and Bill.

Half the crowd screamed when Bill’s body was tossed into the air like a weightless astronaut and caught upside down by the parasite on the high wire. The rope by Bill’s side crashed to the ground with a thud, inches from John.

Jen saw the horror on his face.

The parasite released its hold on Bill. He plummeted to the ground at breakneck speed, screaming the entire way. He landed on his head with a loud crack that everyone felt. His body convulsed in spasms for several seconds before collapsing into a limp, tangled mess.

Serves you right, dillweed
.

Several people around her vomited, but everyone continued to watch. She imagined this is how things were back in the days of the gladiators. People would watch and cheer as others died gruesome deaths, but she was the only one cheering this time.

John stood still and wept. The murderous parasite jumped down from the high wire and appeared in front of him. The other parasites backed off, like they were granting a personal vendetta. John held out his hands to show he wasn’t a threat. Then his face turned white.

Recognition set in.

“Dexter?” John shot one of his hands to the ground and grabbed the rope Bill had been carrying.

What’s he going to do with that?

Dexter’s steel body seemed to move forward, but it happened so fast no one knew for sure. Until blood sprayed from the flea man like a fire hydrant. His arm was gone.

He screamed and ran toward the audience. “Help me!”

“Keep him back!” someone shouted.

“He’ll get us all killed!” another person yelled.

People hurled beer cans and shoes at the man. Anything to keep him back. “Stay away from us! You’re cursed!”

“Someone help me! Please!” John fell to his knees, screaming, crying, pleading. He was covered in blood.

Die, John, die
.

Jen glanced at the exits and noticed the parasites were no longer there. People stood and looked at each other with mouths agape, then blasted out of the tent in droves.

There, in the center of the ring, she saw the parasites. The enormous fleas brandished their fangs. They dragged John back and formed a circle around him.

Jen stepped out of the bleachers and looked upon him for the last time.

“Hey, John!”

He darted his eyes at her, bloodied, crying. His eyes widened.

Good, he recognized her.

“The flea diet consists solely of blood!”

The Rock Toss

RICK’S MOM left that morning to visit her sick sister in Aspen. Everyone suspected his aunt wouldn’t be around much longer.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” his mom had said. “I want to make sure your Aunt Chloe is as comfortable as possible. She doesn’t have anyone else.” She threw her coat on and grabbed an umbrella. “Try not to burn the house down.”

“Better take the matches with you,” he snickered.

“Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, okay?”

Rick shrugged. “We’ll see. Tell Aunt Chloe to stay away from the light.”

She opened her mouth as if to reply, but closed her eyes and sighed before responding. “I wish things were different, Rick. I know the last few years have been hard. Come here.” She wrapped her arms around him.

He didn’t resist.

“Stay out of trouble,” she whispered into his ear. “Love you.”

I love you, too
. If he didn’t say it, then nothing bad would happen. His mom was all he had left and he was grateful every day for her. She was the most important person in the world to him. He wanted to tell her all of this. But he couldn’t. Not since his brother Paul died and his father left. He refused. He never wanted to feel that pain again.

Rick helped his mom out the door and locked it back. He turned the radio on and blasted rock music as loud as possible. He conjured up many possibilities, most involving beer and girls. He settled for smoking cigarettes, skipping school and playing video games.

Everything was going as planned until his mom called the next night. “I’ll he home sometime tomorrow,” she said. “Aunt Chloe’s doing much better. Miss you.”

Fan-frickin-tastic. Rick was getting used to his new lifestyle and became horrified at the prospect of leaving it behind. He had half a mind to hitch a ride to Aspen and smother Aunt Chloe in her sleep. Not enough to kill her, per se. Just enough to leave her incapacitated or on a respirator for a while.
No, no, not really.

The twenty bucks his mom had pinned on the refrigerator were already gone. Pizza delivery was expensive — when you had it twice in one day. Rick realized he needed his mom back. Maybe she would make lasagna or a meatloaf. No one could cook like her.

He left the next morning with his backpack and school clothes on.
It’s all about appearance
. Rick wandered through acres of woods behind the house until he came across an old overpass. It had been used a few years earlier by some land development company. Cars whizzed by on the interstate below every few seconds.

Rick sat next to the overpass and pulled the Gameboy out of his backpack. He went to work slaying dragons and rescuing princesses.