Head Hunters

 

Terry kicked the ball straight past Brand.

“Hey! Attention!”

Brand was looking at the sky. It was changed, it had a yellow glow over it.

“What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should…” The sound of sirens. Many sirens, all over town. “Maybe we should get home.”

Midway over the city hills the first military helicopters appeared. Fighter planes shortly after. Explosions.

“Damn! It looks like… war?”

“Who would invade America? Who could?”

Bombs fell. Several big explosions around town. The planes and helicopters fell. Some gunshots for a short while. 

Silence. An alarm going off in a distance. A scream every once in a while.

There were men walking somewhere further down. They all dressed the same, like if they had uniforms. From their shoulders there was a strange beam going up. They had no heads.

Terry grabbed Brand’s arm.

“Hide!”

They jumped behind some bushes. Lay down. The headless men walked by, marching like soldiers, but they saw no weapons.

“Oh, my God… We need to get home.”

Some men were standing up by the clearing where the pushers used to hang out. They looked at the headless men. One of them, a skinny guy, laughed.

“What are these guys?”

“Some disguises! Ha! Where are you going, nerds?

The headless men did not answer. One of the men’s head popped. Blood pumped from his neck.

“What the…”

His headless friend was lying on the ground. Another man took his hands to his hair. 

“Aaaaaahhh!!” He fell face down on the ground, kept screaming. Another pop.

The  skinny guy fell to his knees.

“My head! It… Why are you doing this to us? Why?”

Pop.

“Please stop! Please!”

The headless men did not answer. They did not speak.

A moment later there were no heads left on the field. Four headless bodies lay on the ground.

The headless men moved on.

 

Terry and Brand ran between the houses, down the smaller alleys. They peered out on the main streets. Headless bodies everywhere. A headless dog. Birds fell from the sky.

“Why are they destroying all the heads?” Brand was panicking.

“Maybe they’re jealous. They’re jealous of our heads, Dude!”

They ran around a corner. Three headless men stood there, waiting for them. 

A headless man stood behind them.

“Oh, no! We’re…” Brand’s head popped.

Terry took a step back. He felt a tingling sensation in his brain, somewhere deep down in his mind. Pressure. Pain. With his hand to his temples, he screamed.

The pain stopped.

The headless men were still there. They turned towards each other. Back towards him.

The alley was gone. The headless men were gone. Terry was somewhere else, inside some kind of metal room.

“Hello? Is anybody here?”

No answer. He sat down in a corner, staring into the air.

After hours, maybe days, a door opened.

Three headless men took him down a hallway. He was led into a room, big like a cathedral. Heads was hanging on the walls all around. A headless man sat on a throne at the end of the room. The beam from his neck was strong, changing intensity as the heads spoke. 

“So, we have found you.”

“What… What do you want from me?”

“We want your head, the heads said. -We need heads to communicate. For the first time, a head is not ours to be taken.”

Terry looked around at the heads on the walls. They were all staring at him. There was no threat on their faces, but awe and respect.

“We’ve finally found our leader. Please, have a seat.”

The headless figure on the throne disappeared. The heads looked from Terry to the throne.

Terry walked up. Looked at the closest head. It nodded. 

He sat down on the throne, stared out on the hall. Three headless men came in.

“Now what?” Terry asked.

The closest head smiled a strange, inhuman smile.

“You tell me. You’re the boss.”

“Stop the head hunt.”

“There are no more heads, Sir. Earth is harvested.”

Terry swallowed. He stared out into the air for a long while. It was all gone. His family. His friends. His little cat. He shook it off. It was too much to take in right now anyway.

“Well, get me some food, then. I’m starving.”

A plate appeared in front of him. A fork and a knife. On the plate there was a pile of roasted chicken heads.

 

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