Saturday, 9 April 2011

HEAD GAMES By Jim Bronyaur


Blake found it first but he felt maybe it would have been better if Connor did.  Connor was taller.  Stronger.  And one time he killed a squirrel with his bare hands.  And another time when he and Blake found a rotting deer carcass, Connor sat next to it not bothered by that horrible death smell.
At first Blake wasn’t sure if it was a real foot or some kind of Halloween prop.  What finally gave it away was the toenails.  This foot had faint lines on the nails and where they met with the toe, it looked scratched.
It was indeed a real foot.
A human foot.
Before Blake had a chance to think, he noticed something else.  A hand.  Then another hand.  Another foot.  A leg.  Cut off above the knee and at the ankle.  It looked like a forgotten slab of meat.
Blake threw up.  That part he never told Connor.  Blake wanted to be as strong and mysterious as Connor.  His dark eyes and long hair.  Man, he was freaking cool.
Blake covered up his puke with dry leaves and ran to get Connor.
“I swear Connor, human.  Will you come see?”
“I don’t believe it.  Why aren’t the cops involved?”
“Who cares?  Please Connor, come on.”
“Okay.  Show me.”
“Damn,” Connor whispered.  He put the tip of his shoe under one of the hands and flipped it over.
Blake was in awe how Connor did it without flinching.  Blake wanted to throw up again. 
“I wonder what happened,” Blake said.
“Looks like someone was hacked to pieces,” Connor said and motioned for Blake to keep walking.
The woods grew thicker and the body parts kept appearing.  The bend of an elbow, even a shoulder.  The blood was heavy and had a strange odor.  Not bad but one that Blake knew he’d never forget.
“Hey, why don’t we report this… maybe we’ll get a reward.”
Connor didn’t reply.  He seemed to be in a trance.
“You okay Connor?”
“Fine.  This is… something.”
“I know.  I wonder where the head is.”
Connor turned and looked at Blake.  “You don’t know about a killer's signature?”
And there was that look from Blake.  That dumb, in awe look.

It was a fire.  Not an urge, but a fire.  Who knows when it begin and really, who cares?
Connor liked the fire.  How it felt.  How his body shivered.  And then how it all would go black and he’d wake up surrounded by blood.  It had always been animal blood up until last night…
The scattered body parts were pieces of art.
So perfect, that for a moment, Connor didn’t believe he could have done it.
Then Blake mentioned there was no head.
Ah, the head.
It rested so gently in Connor’s bed.
The thought sparked the fire inside.
Connor stared at Blake and felt his body twitch.  His mind played scenes… scenes to come.  How convenient was it that Connor had grabbed his bag with his favorite knife?
Blake had no idea what was about to happen.
The fire now burned.

Jim lives in Pennsylvania where he sits in a corner and writes horror.  Published over forty times, he is the creator of the award winning story and series, Pulsate, and his fist book release titled In the Corner is due out April 2011.  His site is and he's socially scares people at


  1. Creepy one this, Jim.

    The 'matter of fact' style made it more effective.

    Liked the 'fire' references too.


  2. Great pace and delivery, with child-like thoughts from Blake countered by Connor's distant reverie.

    I like this - a lot.

  3. Poor Blake. I guess he'll want to be less like Connor very shortly.