"Twisted (Chapters 1 & 2)" by Blair N. Woynarski

CHAPTER ONE

Selena Dermot could best be described as a blond bombshell. A smug look glimmered in her eyes as she trounced up the steps of Heavendale Collegiate high school, in a black skirt that was in violation of the school's dress-code – not that anyone was going to say anything. A pink tank-top clung to her slim, slightly curvaceous figure, while her golden hair flittered exuberantly behind her. Turning heads in the hallway was a strictly probable occurrence, and her accustom to it bade that she pay them no mind.

She glided into her first-period English class, seating herself safely at the back. The red-head in front of her whirled around in her seat.

"You won't believe it. I had my first date with Steve last night."

There was an elongated period of silence that quickly followed. Selena finally interjected with, "And?"

"Well, guess what. You won't believe it. Just guess."

"Umm," Selena sought desperately for an answer, but it was apparently not necessary.

"He's gay," the redhead cut in.

"What?"

"Yeah. He took me home and didn't ask me to make out or fool around or anything."

"That makes him gay?"

"Yeah."

"Great, Tiff."

"Why? Do you have a better story?" Tiffany asked.

"No, actually. Kyle was busy last night; I didn't do much." She made herself sound disappointed, but in reality, she had enjoyed having a free night with no engagements.

"Are you seeing him tonight?"

"Don't think so. We'll probably just make-out on the stage during lunch."

With that, the bell rang.

English class passed in the typical fashion: mindlessly drilling out answers to alleged "discussion questions" and then being told by Mr. Havers what to think. It wasn't that Selena hated English, but her teacher this semester could have turned the Irish off whiskey after a single lecture. The hour crawled on until science rolled around. That and textiles passed with little incident, and culminated in the pleasuring sound of the lunch bell.

Selena was swept out of the textiles lab in the noon-hour tumult, but took her travels to the right, while everyone else was travelling the other way. A figure a dozen paces ahead of her caught her eye. He was dressed most conspicuously, in a charcoal suit and bowler hat. His right hand was robed in a blue glove, and was swishing and waving in the air. Selena noticed that his left hand had no glove, and she wondered what kind of person, other than Michael Jackson, would decide to make that fashion statement. All of her tiny examinations whistled through her mind as the man continued to amble in front, keeping his back to her, and his head concealed beneath his bowler hat. She followed him around the corner, but found him to have disappeared. She settled on the idea that he ducked into a nearby classroom.

Comfortable with this notion, she headed down the stairs. After dropping her books off at her locker, she floated down to the student lounge. Kyle was waiting for her.

Green eyes punctuated his tanned face, and artificially blond hair bustled about his shoulders. He regarded Selena with a look of serene interest. "I notice you managed to survive the night without me," he chided.

"Only after resuscitation," she retorted. "I went into withdrawal around nine o'clock."

"Come on; let's have lunch," he suggested.

She wrapped her arm around his waist. "I'm not really that hungry."

The message was clear. Kyle lead her down the hallway, and the two of them snuck into the auditorium. The vast chamber was empty – of course, one can't be sure if that actually made a difference – so they collapsed onto the stage into each other's embrace. They remained passionately tangled for ten minutes, before a noise broke them apart. A caretaker was entering through the front entrance, so the young lovers slipped behind the curtain and out the backdoor.

Making out on the stage was something of a ritual for them, and it had somehow become common knowledge among their friends, although neither of them had told anyone about it, and they had never been caught (the secret to how news travels through a high school is likely something the military would be very interested in). But once the cat was out of the bag, it became a point of casual conversation. Kyle would sometimes remark about how he and Selena would lose their virginity on the catwalk before they graduate – everyone but Selena thought he was kidding.

Now, they snaked down the hall, back to the lounge. Selena still wasn't feeling hungry, and she passed this onto her boyfriend as he went to get her some food.

"Don't tell me you're buying into some idiotic diet scheme, now."

"Why, do you have some fat fetish you haven't told me about?"

"There's nothing sexy about a woman who eats celery for lunch."

The argument continued for a moment longer, but Kyle gave up and left her be while he hustled over to stand in line. Selena gazed out the window, and caught sight of something familiar. It was the man in the suit and bowler hat again. He was walking drunkenly in front of the school, still with his back completely turned. His gloved right hand was extended rigidly at a 45º angle, while his naked left hand hung limply at his side. He took one more step and then stopped moving. He turned his head slightly to the left, but left his face shadowed by the bowler hat, then raised his right hand over his opposite shoulder and waved.

Selena recoiled backwards. She felt suddenly nauseous and her head began to throb. She raised her head against her better judgment, but found the courtyard of the school devoid any bowler hats or blue gloves. The sickness faded with the speed bullet train, but she was left with a growling stomach. She dragged herself toward the concession, and encountered Kyle halfway.

A smirk rocketed onto his face. "I knew you couldn't give up lunch on taco day."

***

It was another lonely evening; Kyle had to attend to his little brother's birthday party. Selena let the silence permeate her. She curled up on the bed and picked up her copy of Slaughterhouse 5. Reading had been something that held no interest for her for a number of years. Her mind had changed just recently, but she couldn't pinpoint the catalyst for this vicissitude. Now, it was just a quiet pleasure of hers: something she never talked to anyone about.

She had gotten a paragraph further when her door creaked. There was a man standing in the doorway. The hall light was off and her desk lamp did not provide enough illumination to discern who the figure belonged to. There was one hint, though: in his right hand, he held an object that looked suspiciously like a bowler hat. Without speaking, he stepped away from the doorway and headed down the hallway with all the noise of smoke. Selena tore out of her room and down the hall. She caught sight of the back door swinging closed and bolted outside. The man was standing right in front of her, hat in his gloved hand.

"How did you get in here?" she demanded, realising that she had just put herself in more danger than was necessary, but nonetheless outraged.

The man turned around. His face was something almost human. He looked more like a badly drawn cartoon escaped into the real world. His eyes were oval shaped, and bulged out of his face, at least three times as big as any normal person's. His skin was as pale as a blank paper, disturbed by his flamboyantly red lips, extending in a smile practically from ear to ear. His ears themselves were as equally disproportionate as his eyes, and protruded outwards, pointing slightly upwards, almost like a satellite dish. Then his hair was bright orange, in the appearance of being tousled and unkempt, but visibly solid, as if made from painted glass. He spoke in a voice akin to a rodeo clown doing falsetto, and said, "Go back to bed, little girl."

Selena screamed. In all the movies she had seen with the helpless heroine screaming her tongue out after something terrifying, she had never believed people would react that way. But here she was, hysterical, pounding on her back door, trouncing the competition of the cats in the alley.

Her mother rushed to the door, frantic.

"What happened?! What happened?!" she cried.

Selena collapsed into her arms, hyperventilating. She glanced over her shoulder to confirm her suspicions; the gloved man was gone.

"Come inside," her mother soothed. "Just calm down. Whatever it is, it's all right."

CHAPTER 2

Selena stirred awake in her bed as her clock read 10:02 am. The events of the previous night had never left her mind, and still alarmed her. She fabricated a story about thinking she saw a dead cat, but managed to sneak away soon enough that she wasn't questioned much more. But something about the atmosphere right now reminded her of what happened. It was something immediate, before she even opened her eyes. When she did, she saw that there was an abnormal green glow flowing through her window. She closed her blinds and turned on the lamp, but the green refused to fade. She shook her head and decided it must just be her.

The rest of the house was devoid of movement. This was apparent as she crept down the hallway to have her shower. It wasn't unusual for her parents to sneak off somewhere on a Saturday morning; there would be a note left somewhere. The water seemed unusually hot in the shower; she needed to turn down the temperature much lower than normal. It was not a big concern, though. A short half-hour later she was out the bathroom door again and striding down to her room. She changed clothes, slipping into a denim skirt (this one just a shade within the school's dress-code) and a black tee-shirt.

A quick examination of the house produced no note left behind. A bit worrisome, but nothing life-threatening. After fixing her hair and applying some basic cosmetics, Selena was out the door. The streets were oddly quiet, she noticed as she drove to Tiffany's house. Of the few cars on the road that she saw, they were all too far in the distance to make out passengers. The family van was still parked at Tiff's house, at least, so some people were around. Selena ambled up the front walk and rang the doorbell.

Both Tiffany's parents answered, with beaming smiles. This was especially disturbing, since Tiffany's mother worked the night-shift and was always sleeping at 11:00. They answered Selena tersely. "I'm sorry, Tiffany's not here right now." They closed the door.

Selena rang again. Her and Tiff had made lunch plans, and there was no way her friend would have forgotten. The only plausible solution was that she was hung over, but that made the plastic smiles all the more confusing. There was no answer, so she opened the door and crept in.

The interior was desolate. There was no sign of the parents that had just rebuffed her. The lights were off, but there was a sound coming from the living room. Selena discovered Tiffany on the couch, wearing a tee-shirt and pyjama bottoms, with her eyes transfixed on the TV.

"What's going on?" Selena queried.

Tiffany regarded her with a quick glance and returned her gaze to the television. Selena tip-toed closer, discovering the enthralling program was a 24-hour news station. They were showing reports about a fire somewhere in Paris.

"There are fires breaking out everywhere," Tiffany said, not changing her consumed, blank expression. "But the reporters are disappearing. Some guy was in front of a fire in New York. They cut away for a second, and when they returned, he was gone. There was an image of the fire, with no other person there, and then the screen went blank. They cut to this."

The two of them watched as the reporter continued speaking, while pedestrians strolled behind him, oblivious to the inferno. Some passed close enough that they must have been burned, but they paid no notice. Then the screen went blank.

In a vain attempt to disregard what she had just seen, Selena asked, "Where are you parents?"

"I have no idea. They were gone when I woke up."

"But I just talked to them a minute ago at the door."

Tiffany looked up in the manner of a teddy bear, innocent, frightened, but otherwise emotionless. "You couldn't have."

"We should get out of here – see if we can find anyone who knows what's going on."

They hurried out into Selena's car, Tiffany not bothering to change clothes, but only slipping her sandals on. The drove down deserted roads, passing the occasional pedestrian, always dressed in black, and always giving a robotic, superficially cordial wave. As they passed the schoolyard, the saw that all of the trees were ablaze. There was no visible reason for this, but the branches raged in flame. Another pedestrian strolled in between two of the torches, and gave the traditional wave. Selena responded with speeding up.

"Look!" Tiffany cried as a café came into view. There were a dozen cars in the lot, which hopefully meant there were people inside. As if trying to score a record time, they turned in, parked, and flew out of the car. Tiffany reached the door first and yanked it open. She met a teenage boy in an apron.

There was a slight glisten in his eye as he saw them. He grabbed Tiffany and hugged her. "I can't believe it. I didn't think anyone was left."

"What do you mean?" Selena asked. "There's a dozen cars out there."

"Just come in," the boy replied. "Close the door." The girls did as they were asked, and the boy continued: "I showed up for work at seven. The deserted roads didn't mean much to me, since there isn't usually much traffic that early on a Saturday morning. But as I waited, no one showed. I saw car after car pull into the lot, but no one came in. Eventually I went out myself and checked out the problem, and..." he leaned back against the counter and took in a sigh, "there was no one in the cars. The had all driven up, and I know that no one got out, but they were all empty."

No movie Selena had seen had prepared her for this. "What do we do now?" was all she could muster the energy to say.

"I suppose we could head out, try to find any other survivors."

"I guess. What's your name, by the way?"

"Steve," he replied.

Selena shot Tiffany a glance. She would have laughed, had the morning not taken humour out of her system. Instead, all she did was nod, and they headed back out to her car.

An odd sound caught her ear. It was throbbing, yet a slurping sound. "What is that?" she speculated aloud.

"Something we shouldn't investigate," Steve retorted.

But his caution was not heeded. Selena marched around to the side of the café, only to recoil and scream. The other two rushed over, to find the object of her terror. The was a pulsating mass attached to the side of the building. It was coloured a sickening green and brown, and was affixed to its spot by a long web of sticky netting. The same thought crossed all of their minds: an egg sack.

With the power of the wind, the trio sprinted back to the car and sped off down the road. A dog dashed out right in front of them, and Selena slammed on the brakes. The hound spun around to face them and stood on its hind legs. The two front paws spread outwards revealing a strange red and black colour pattern on its underside. In the next second, the colour pattern broke from the body and spread outwards – wings. The dog took off and went soaring through the air. The occupants of the car said nothing, but Selena slammed on the gas and sped off.

A car cut out of the intersection half-a-block ahead of them, but her speed was too great for Selena to stop easily. She slammed on the brakes and skidded sideways. Miraculously, she didn't hit the other car, but the greater miracle is that there were passengers in it. The driver of the other car, a man of about 21, hopped out. He rushed over to Selena.

"You're the third car we've come across. We're all gathering at the movie theatre, trying to figure out what's going on and see how many of us are left. You should go; we'll meet up with you after we've found any other survivors."

He ran back to his car and drove off. He appeared to be in a hurry, and Selena wasn't anxious to find out why.

"All right," Tiffany said, "let's go to the movie theatre."

The theatre was only a few blocks away, and they arrived quickly. The three passengers exited the vehicle, and they gazed toward their only means of salvation. Tiffany and Steve entered first, while Selena lingered back, studying the surroundings for more unusual activity. Finding none, she followed them in.

The suffocating miasma of smoke pounced on her as she entered. Flames leapt and danced around her everywhere. The building was being consumed – there was no one else she could see. There was nothing to do but to hammer back through the door outside. In the parking lot, the heat beat upon her. She turned to gaze upon the theatre. It was an inferno, yet there had been no hint of fire when she went in. It had been consumed in an instant, along with everyone inside.

She, the last survivor, stumbled back to her car. She had no idea where to go, but she needed to get their fast. She wrenched the door open and climbed inside. The keys would not enter the ignition.

Upon closer inspection, there was no ignition; the slot had been painted on. Selena examined everything. The radio was a flat surface with the buttons merely pictures. The steering wheel was fast, not even allowing the minute movement that can be achieved when the car is turned off. The locks wouldn't work, and the hood wouldn't open. She flung herself out of the erstwhile car. There was no time to stay and ponder what happened to it. She simply ran.

The green light she remembered from her bedroom cascaded upon the road. Buildings around her seemed to distort their shape and grow larger as she neared them. There was no time to think, just to run. She wasn't even conscious of where she was going or how long it took. Whether by purpose or accident, she ran until she reached her home.

She unlocked the door (at least that still worked) and slammed it behind her. She slumped to the ground, panting. After several minutes of no movement, she crawled over the steps and into her living room. Climbing to her feet, she trod over something strange. She leapt backward, not knowing what it had been. It appeared to be a green tree root ... and it moved. More root-like objects dislodged themselves from the floor and the walls. They snapped through the air, until eventually the fastened themselves to the north wall. Moments passed without sound or action, and then a crash thundered as the roots ripped the side out of the living room.

A gaping hole was left in the house, through which Selena could see a plant-like organism, green and yellow in colour, comprised mostly of a snapping, multi-fanged mouth and more than 20 tentacles. The tentacles whipped through the air, one of them grappling Selena's right leg. She was swept off her feet, and another tentacle wrapped around her left wrist. Gradually, she was pulled toward the angry mouth.

The clatter of the plant was interrupted by a gentle whistling sound. A man in a pin-striped suit paced down the road, toward the plant. He leapt forward, toward Selena and grasped the tentacle that held her wrist. Holding it tight in his arm, he raised it to his mouth and bit it. The tentacle severed, and it flailed through the air, spraying a green liquid everywhere. The man leapt on the other tentacle holding Selena and bit down into it as well. A third tentacle wrapped around his own leg, but her merely bent low and bit into it. Now, he seemed to be savouring the juices. He wouldn't relinquish his grasp of the tentacle, and continued taking bites of it. More struck at him, but fended them off with his teeth.

He collapsed to his knees, and Selena thought he was injured. But he started growling. His mouth opened wider, until it seemed his head was being stretched. The skin on his face cracked and bled, and his head stretched into a snouted beast visage bearing no relation to any human. His arms and legs started growing thicker and larger. He leapt at the plant. Claws had sprouted from his hands, which he used to rend at the plant's flesh. He bit into it multiple times, devouring it. When it appeared that the plant had died, the beast-man roared, as if to claim his victory, and then continued to finish his meal.

Selena ran once more. The beast-man paid no attention, already having his fodder. Selena sprinted hysterically up the road, but tripped and was thrown forcefully to the ground. She turned to see it was a small, monkey-like creature that had grabbed her ankle. It looked at her in the many of a toddler looking at something new and colourful. After several seconds, it bounded off down the road. Quickly, it was followed by ten others like it, and then more. A black figure pounced into the parade, and the rest of the monkey-creatures cleared, leaving one dead in the claws of a cat.

The black feline munched on the carcass, chewing each bite intellectually. It turned to Selena. "Hello," it said.

Selena sat motionless, which the cat took as a que to continue eating. "You can talk?" she finally asked.

The cat returned its gaze to her. "You're going to sit there and tell me a talking cat is the strangest thing you've seen this morning?"

"No, I guess not. I don't think I could pick one thing as strangest."

"The dancing highway probably takes it."

"What?"

"Oh, you haven't seen it yet? I'll have to take you."

Selena curled up and began sobbing. The surreality of this day had prevented her from feeling sad, but now it had caught up to her. She was alone in a world that shouldn't exist, and this cat was now the closest thing she had to a companion. She began sobbing and couldn't stop.

The cat cuddled up next to her leg. "Are you alone here too?" it asked.

Selena nodded, before thinking to add, "Where are we?"

The cat looked at her, as if incredulous anyone could ask such a stupid question. "Hell," it replied.