Twisted Tales

By Ajith Ram

Twisted Tales
Stories with unexpected endings

The Chat Room
A sex obsessed college student meets a beautiful girl on an online chat room. He finally locates her real address and agrees to meet her at a sex party.

The Guide
A young nun from Britain arrives in a secluded village in the middle of the Himalayan jungle. She is met by a Christian pastor who offers to guide her to the mission hospital nearby. But he has a big secret.

A New Christmas Carol
In the middle of one of the worst snow storms of the century, just before Christmas, a mysterious stranger arrives at a British-style bed and breakfast hotel in Chicago.

Box of Chocolates
“I want her dead,” an ex-Royal Marine tells his best friend. “Dead and buried by the New Year.” After the murder, the killer gets a surprise.

The Staircase
An American family that has just moved into a new home finds something strange about their wooden staircase.

In Memoriam
A man grieves for his beloved. But who really is his lover?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ajith Ram
• Release date: Oct 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370327768

Ajith Ram

Ajith Ram was born and raised in Kerala, India. After his postgraduation from the University of Bristol’s Department of Film & TV, he started his career as a journalist. In 2000, he joined the videogame industry. Since then, he has worked on numerous videogames for the PC and consoles such as PlayStation 2, Xbox and Nintendo DS. He now lives in Malaysia and teaches videogames. He can be contacted at [e-mail].

Book preview

TWISTED TALES

AJITH RAM

© Ajith Ram. All rights reserved.

Table of Contents

The Chat Room 1

The Guide 44

A New Christmas Carol 59

Box Of Chocolates 94

The Staircase 126

In Memoriam 133

About The Author

Ajith Ram was born and raised in Kerala, India. After his postgraduation from the University of Bristol’s Department of Film & TV, he started his career as a journalist. In 2000, he joined the videogame industry. Since then, he has worked on numerous videogames for the PC and consoles such as PlayStation 2, Xbox and Nintendo DS. He now lives in Malaysia and teaches videogames. He can be contacted at www.facebook.com/ajithram1972

To my parents and my wife

FROM THE AUTHOR

Available now on

THE CHAT ROOM

My name is Justin North. I have a confession to make.

I am addicted to sex.

I think it is in my genes. It is certainly a tradition in my family. An uncle of mine is a major star in the American adult film industry. He has even won a few adult academy awards and is on his way to becoming an industry legend.

Of course, my family does not talk to him much. In fact, we do not even acknowledge he is family. I found out about him when I overheard my mother talking with my aunt about his adventures in California. I often dreamt about emulating his achievements, but never quite managed enough courage to start down that road. I consider it a truly great loss to that realm of entertainment.

Like my illustrious uncle, I love sex in almost all its varieties. Of course, sometimes it happens only inside my head. In fact……I must confess, it is the case most of the time.

And that is probably why I am addicted to virtual sex.

Particularly sex chat rooms.

I love talking about sex on the net. It is so much more satisfying than the real thing. I am a frequent visitor to some of the most popular sex chat rooms. Of course, I never use my real name or photograph. No one ever does. Over the years, I have developed my own loyal group of female friends. Or at least, I assume they are all female. Usually, we arrange chat room trysts during weekends or public holidays.

A sex chat friend tends to be much more loyal than your typical Facebook ‘friend’. Borne out of a burning necessity and a desire for privacy, a sex chat friend is someone you can rely on to get useful tips and prepare for important sessions.

And the best part about virtual sex………..you do not have to pay for dinner.

The following events happened in England.

At that time, I was studying psychology at Northwestern University in Chicago and I had enrolled in a student exchange program that allowed me to spend one year at a participating foreign university. I chose the University of Bristol. I had always wanted to visit England and the student exchange program seemed to be an excellent opportunity to do so.

I was accompanied on the trip by my best friend, Joe Bart. We have been friends since the first day of school. He shares my passion for virtual sex. We even share the same set of chat room friends.

Our British Airways flight was about an hour away from Heathrow when Joe finally stirred to life in his seat. He had slept most of the way through. I always have trouble sleeping on flights.

Joe sat up in his seat and looked out of the window. It was pitch black outside and raining. We had already started descending.

What time is it? he asked, stretching his arms and yawning.

Five thirty, I replied, looking at the digital clock on the TV screen.

Fuck. How long was I out?

He yawned again and slumped back into his chair.

About seven hours, I said. You missed all the action.

What action? he enquired, suddenly very attentive.

You missed the blonde bombshell.

Where? Where? he asked, poking his head over the edge of his seat.

Not here, I confirmed. In the first class cabin. I saw her come down the stairs.

And that’s what you call action? he asked incredulously.

What the fuck do you expect? We’re on a plane. Not exactly the place for a striptease.

That would be nice, he mumbled, fiddling with the TV controls. I wonder if they have Playboy channel.

Coming soon to a flight near you……..in about 30 years, I confirmed.

A skinny air hostess who had been serving our cabin appeared next to us and smiled at me. She must have been well over 50. Most of the makeup on her face at the start of the flight had vanished, replaced by clearly visible creases. The wrinkles became exacerbated when she smiled.

Can I get you anything? she enquired.

Nothing for me. Thanks, I said, smiling back. Not my type, I thought again. Definitely too skinny for me.

Coffee please, said Joe, looking up from his TV remote.

The air hostess scurried off to the pantry in front. I watched her vanish behind the dividing curtain and turned to Joe with an enquiring eye.

Too old, he said emphatically.

I nodded in agreement. And too skinny. They always reserve the best ones for first class.

Do you think she’ll be waiting when we land? he wondered aloud, fiddling again with the remote.

Our blonde bombshell? I hope so, I said wistfully, looking towards both ends of the cabin to see if she is anywhere in sight. There was no one. That one’s definitely worth seeing again.

The skinny air hostess came back with Joe's coffee. He gave her a fake smile and accepted it. As he started mixing the milk, the landing announcement came over the speakers. Right on cue, a whole bunch of people jumped up from their seats and headed to the toilets.

I have always wondered why people wait till the final announcement to relieve themselves. There must be some as yet undiscovered link between the announcement and the human rectum. I wondered whether it is something I should look into for my final thesis paper.

I looked out of the window again. I could finally see some lights. It was still raining and I could not make out any of the famous London buildings. We were probably too high anyway.

The plane landed with a nasty bump, much harder than my previous flights. I heard a few children start to cry and predictably, a few morons immediately jumped up from their seats. The skinny air hostess sitting at the end of the aisle tried to goad them back into their seats. It was futile.

Once a moron, always a moron, I said to myself.

As we walked through the aircraft doorway into the aerobridge, Joe poked me on my right hand.

Yes, I know, I said, looking behind us. She's not here.

You were dreaming, he accused me.

Nope. Definitely a bombshell, I said, pulling my suitcase over a hump on the floor. And probably still in first class. Not for us in cattle class.

Joe gave a mock sigh.

One of the signs said we were in Terminal 5 and another one pointed to the left for immigration. As we turned a corner next to a W. H. Smith's outlet, Joe again tugged at my T-shirt.

I turned to look in his direction. He motioned to his right with his eyes. There was definitely something to see there. A petite brunette in a blue skirt was coming towards us. We paused slightly to let her pass in front of us. She smiled at us as she walked into the shop.

That’s a whopper, I mumbled, as we reached the bottom of the escalator near the shop.

Bacon with extra cheese., Joe added.

She looks like Ms. Benson from Maths class.

Oh no! No! Joe disagreed vehemently.

What do you mean? I asked. Same size tits. Same hair.

Ms. Benson was a goddess. Much bigger tits. She was in a different league.

How the fuck do you know? I asked, suddenly curious.

Well, I saw it once, Joe confessed. Definitely bigger.

You actually saw Ms. Benson’s tits, I smirked. Yeah right!

I swear, Joe said, becoming slightly defensive.

How come you never told me?

You were on holiday or something. I was with Blake Hinton.

There was a massive queue in front of the immigration desks. It looked like we would be stuck here for a while.

"You mean Blake gay Hinton? I asked, getting back on topic. What the hell were you doing with him?"

His folks moved house. He became her neighbour.

"WHAT? The only gay guy in high school becomes the neighbour to