Skeletons in the Closet: 39 Chilling and Disturbing Stories

By Mia Lyttle Twysted

Skeletons in the Closet is a collection of short stories with unexpected twists and turns. It reveals the hidden monsters behind innocent eyes and a sly welcoming smile. Buried secrets reveal a history that ruins lives. Unfortunate missteps lead to devastating and surprising endings. Demons are born from the ashes of those decimated, creating nightmares and monsters beyond imagination.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665572040

Mia Lyttle Twysted

Mia Lyttle Twysted is an American-born writer who is often referred to as quirky, eccentric, and unique. She lives with her husband in Oklahoma. Skeletons in the Closet is her first book.

Book preview

In the Mirror

Wrapping the towel around herself, Amanda stepped out of the shower. Every horrifying minute of the night before ran through her troubled mind as she leaned against the bathroom sink. Letting out a mournful sigh, she ran her hand across the misty glass.

What! She gasped, seeing two of herself in the mirror.

Spinning around, the frightened woman clung to her towel, only to find there was no one there.

Come on, Amanda, she said to herself, taking a deep breath. Get your shit together.

Running her hand through her wet brown hair, she turned back around.

Still here, honey, the duplicate said.

Whirling back around, Amanda came face-to-face with her doppelgänger.

It’s my turn now. Her double smiled smugly as Amanda’s body decomposed into ash.

Teddy

Teddy lurked unnoticed in the corner, watching Kelly. His tongue rolled over his thick upper lip as saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth. Reaching up and under his mask, he wiped his jaw dry, transferring the spittle to his hand and then his jeans.

He loved this new world, where people were all but mandated to cover their faces. It gave him a freedom previously denied. It helped to hide his wicked intentions. It allowed him to build up anticipation for the kill, making it so much more satisfying.

Kelly jiggled her coat to loosen it from the folding chair. Saying her goodbyes, she swung it around her shoulders and headed to her car. Pushing off the wall, Teddy moaned. It was time. This was going to be a night he would never forget.

The Knot

John wandered over to the large rock, away from his troop. He fiddled around with the rope in his hands, wondering if he was ever going to get his new badge. Small rocks flew out over the cliff as he kicked the loose stones.

Throwing his rope around a nearby tree, John worked the timber hitch. Each time he failed, he felt embarrassed and ashamed. Telling himself, one more time, he began to work the knot again. Finishing, he closed his eyes and tugged.

It worked! he shouted. I did it.

Leaning into his groove, John preceded to do his victory dance. His fellow troop members ran to his side. As he spun around to hit his final pose for his adoring audience, John’s foot slipped on the loosened stones beneath him, knocking him off balance and over the edge.

Complicated Choices

Ben needs a doctor, Kim said, holding her lover in her arms. He’s lost a lot of blood.

We go out there now, and we’re all dead, Randy said. Peeking through the blinds, Randy let out a heavy sigh.

There’s a window in the bathroom, Kurt said, halting to a stop in front of Kim and Ben. Oh, God, he gasped.

Kurt! Randy shouted.

What?

Window?

Oh, yeah, Kurt said, shaking the daze away. There’s a window in the bathroom that we can all fit through. If we go out now, by the time they find out what room we’re in, we’ll be gone.

What about Ben? Kim’s voice cracked.

Even if we could get him out the window … Kurt’s voice faded with each word.

He can’t run, Randy said, stepping away from the window. He’d only slow us down.

We have to do something, Kim sobbed. We can’t just leave him here to die.

Sorry, toots, Randy sighed. It’s him or us. He paused. Are you coming or not? Cause we’re going out that window.

A Windy Night

The wind nipped at Melody’s ankles like an angry Chihuahua as she neared the street corner. Her bones tightened with anticipation. She could feel something was wrong. The moment she rounded onto Mascot Ave.; her eyes locked with his. The beast’s youthful glow consumed her, making her nothing more than a shy, lovesick schoolgirl. She couldn’t yet see his true face. That was his power. That was how he stalked his prey. She giggled, waiting on the corner as he strutted to her.

Melody. Bethany’s voice broke the spell. Run!

Shocked, Melody gasped. Her eyes widened at the sight of Bethany, lying torn and bleeding on the sidewalk. Reaching forward, Bethany grabbed the beast’s foot. He shook her off and then stomped on her head. Brain matter poured out, staining the cream-colored sidewalk. The eerie squishing sound echoed in the wind.

Melody stepped back, bracing herself against the brick wall of the clothing store behind her. Time slowed down. She prayed the vision in front of her was a nightmare.

Bethany, she cried. No!

Trembling, the terrified woman’s knees gave way, and she collapsed to the ground. The beast let out a low growl. His warm breath billowed out from his large nostrils.

All light was cast out, as the beast towered over Melody. Tears streamed from her eyes. His blood-covered paw reached down. Grabbing his prey by the throat, he lifted her. His lips curled, exposing his stained, crooked teeth. With a quick, sharp snap, he took a bite. Melody’s screams faded into the wind, as the best gorged her flesh.

Mountaintop

It’s so beautiful, Kelly said, looking out over the mountains.

Didn’t I tell you? Ben said.

You did. I’m glad we all came.

Yeah, me too. Ben put his arm around Kelly, pulling her in for a kiss.

What are you doing? She pushed him away.

Come on. He sighed. You can’t tell me you don’t feel the connection between us.

The only thing between us is friendship.

Then why did you come here with me? Ben growled.

I came here with Mike, Kelly said, and you’re here with Carol.

Yes, yes, we had to bring them along, or they would have gotten suspicious.

What?

But you and I are here, right now, alone. Ben reached out for her again. A little kiss. They’ll never know.

Ben! Kelly said firmly. Stop it. What is wrong with you?

Don’t play with me, Kelly. You know we have something special. He brushed her auburn hair behind her ear.

Don’t touch me! Kelly stepped back. I’m going back down to camp.

You have been playing me all summer. Ben stepped in Kelly’s path.

Are you mental? Kelly’s voice shook. Move and let me pass.

You’re just like every other girl. Aren’t you? Ben gripped her arm.

What are you doing? Let me go.

Kelly struggled, attempting to loosen his grip so she could run. But it was too tight.

If I can’t have you, no one will. He dangled her over the edge of the cliff.

Please, Ben, don’t do this.

Too little, too late, Ben snarled.

Kelly’s eyes filled with horror, as Ben released his grip, allowing her to fall to her death.

John Johnson

John Johnson spent every year getting his costume ready for comic con. He slaved for months, selecting, constructing, and crafting the most elaborate setups. The brown-haired tax attorney had always been shy, and comic con had been his therapist’s idea. She thought it would give him a chance to meet people, in a reduced-stress environment.

And for just a few hours a day, a few times a year, it was the answer John Johnson was looking for. He got to be someone else, someone popular—someone everyone wanted to get to know. But the magic never lasted. Each time he left the convention and returned home, he went right back to being invisible, unnoticed, and alone.

Night after night, John Johnson stared into the mirror, lost in despair. The mirror began to show him the man he could have been—the man he should have been, if things had only been different and he had not been so afraid.

John Johnson began to regret his life, his wasted, misused, and empty life. If only he were someone different, he thought. Dying his brown hair red, he began putting on his costume for the current year’s convention. He highlighted his eyes, in midnight black mascara, and applied ruby red lipstick, for the finishing touches.

Running his fingers over the smooth, dusty, black lockbox to his right, he picked it up and placed it directly in front of him. Punching in the code, he opened the box, revealing a silver pistol. John Johnson had made up his mind. He picked up the gun, loaded a round into the chamber, put the barrel to his temple, and pulled the trigger.

Mystery Song

The orchestra was playing a song Beverly knew she had heard before. The haunting beat was slow and low. Her eyes stared off into the distance, her mind becoming lost within the harmony. She could see something, something she didn’t know was there. A memory was clawing its way out of the depths of her mind. She had forgotten something. But what?

Her hands started to shake as the conductor’s motions sped up the tempo. Images flashed rapidly through her mind. Was that her mother? Could it be? It was, and she smiled. The song reminded her of her mother. Tears escaped down her face as she stared into the eyes of the woman, she had so longed to remember. She’d heard the whispers over the years—heard people commenting about it and about her. It’s probably better she forgot anyway, they said.

As the piece’s pace picked up, Beverly stood gripping the balcony rail.

No, she whispered.

Images flashed through her mind as the tempo bounced along. Fellow patrons on the balcony began to divert their attention in her direction. The rolling sound waves carried her body back and forth, gaining momentum. The images in her mind started to run together like an old projector playing a movie. What was