The Twisted Ones

by Scott Cawthon

Charlie was standing outside her own dorm room, almost without knowing how she’d gotten there. Slowly, she pulled her keys from her pocket and let herself into the room. The lights were off; Jessica was still in class. Charlie shut the door behind her, checking the lock twice, and leaned back against it. She took a deep breath. It’s over now. She straightened decisively and snapped on the overhead light, filling the room with a harsh illumination. The clock beside the bed told Charlie that she still had a little under an hour before John arrived—time to work on her project. Charlie and Jessica had divided the room with a piece of masking tape after their first week living together. Jessica suggested it jokingly, said she’d seen it in a movie, but Charlie had grinned and helped her measure the room. She knew Jessica was desperate to keep Charlie’s mess off her side. The result was a bedroom that looked like a “before and after” picture advertising either a cleaning service or a nuclear weapon, depending on whose side you looked at first. On Charlie’s desk there was a pillowcase, draped over two indistinct shapes. She went to her desk and removed it, folding it carefully and placing it on her chair. She looked at her project. “Hello,” she said softly. Two mechanical faces were held upright on metal structures and attached to a length of board. Their features were indistinct, like old statues worn away by rain, or new clay not yet fully sculpted. They were made of a malleable...