There were eight heads in my friend’s freezer. I have no idea how they got there, or how he obtained them, or how they were all so well preserved. Some of the heads were of famous people. Marie Antoinette lay side by side with Robespierre. Ironically, on the other side of her head was a piece of chocolate cake.
My friend is neurotic. Often he repeats the same thing over and over. When I asked him about the heads in the freezer, he repeated the word “Brains!” about fifty times, and in a tone that sounded like the late, great Peter Lorre. I told him that all of these people were dead and that I doubted that any of their brains would function. In fact, all of their brains probably disintegrated. He then put his hands over his face and acted as if he was peeling away the skin of his face. I joked with him about seeing too many zombie flicks at the movie theaters. While I laughed, he just stared at me.
He made an odd gesture, that of the finger across the throat. This startled me for a second. I figured he was probably just being his neurotic self.
He said ,” D-Dead.”
My eyes opened wide, and I replied ,”Who?”
I thought he was jerking my chain.
“Dude did you smoke something funny last night?”
He stared at me, a piercing stare that went right through the heart of me.
I said ,”Are you going to behead me or something? Should I be afraid of you?”
He blinked and replied ,”I was there,” and repeated that phrase a few times.
My friend then took me into his room. He had started pulling things out of drawers and throwing them around the room as if all of a sudden they meant nothing to him. I had never seen him like this. I wondered what in the world he was looking for. Then after about five minutes, he had in his hand a print of a famous picture of the execution of Robespierre. He pointed to the man at the back of the guillotine, the executioner.
“I was there!” he said.
For some reason, my friend thought he was literally the executioner, the one who killed all the people in his freezer. I thought that odd, but in some weird way it made sense. How in the world could he have obtained Marie Antionette’s head, if he hadn’t been there? No one knows where her head is. France doesn’t even know where her head is! These weren’t wax reproductions of heads neither. These were the real deal! They didn’t even smell which was kind of strange. It was almost as if they had just been executed.
I had explained to my friend that it was impossible for him to have been the executioner. He had insisted he was. So not only was my friend neurotic and psychotic but he was delusional as well. I was really freaked out. I know I should’ve runaway, but something told me to stay. You know'”that little voice inside your head that wants to find out what the frick is going on? So I stayed.
He mumbled out “Y ou wait.”
“For what?” I asked.
Midnight. The witching hour. What could possibly happen? What?Was there a full moon? Was he going to turn into a vampire or a werewolf? My thoughts spun intricate tales, but I knew none of them were real. Well, I thought they weren’t real…
We sat in his bedroom watching old B-rated zombie flicks. Instead of watching the movies, he was watching me watching the movies, as if to see my reactions to certain scenes, especially scenes where the living dead crept out of graves and crypts and claimed the bodies (particularly the brains) of living people. I think he knew the movies inside and out. Maybe they all influenced something. Maybe this is all in his head. But the heads in the freezer? How did they get there?
Being that I hadn’t slept the night before, I somehow managed to fall asleep in front of the television for about an hour. My dreams were vivid. People’s heads were floating around me from days of yore. Marie Antoinette. Robespierre. People. People who had been beheaded, blood gushing from their lifeless bodies. I dreamt of the guillotine. I dreamt of axes and broadswords. I dreamt of my own death. I woke up screaming. My friend was standing over me, as if he was watching me sleep the entire time. I jumped in fright. He laughed.
“Brains!” he repeated several times.
The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed midnight. He opened the window to his bedroom to let the light of the full moon in. He then turned off the lights in the room. The moon lit the entire room. Before my eyes a transformation was taking place. His hair grew long and white. His canine teeth sharpened into something similar to fangs, but not quite. The rest of his teeth fell out. His skin turned a blue-grey color. His nails grew long, yellow and decrepit. Scars across his face and arms began to appear. His face sunk in. His clothes changed into period clothes, but were tattered and torn. A sword seemed to magically appear. He grunted. He groaned in horrid tones, but he could not form words. I trembled. The picture he had showed me of Robespierre’s execution had faded.
As in the movies, he walked very stiffly out of his bedroom, down the stairs, to the kitchen. He opened the freezer door. He motioned for me to come over. Very slowly, I crept towards the freezer. The heads were gone! He pointed to the back door. My stomach began to gurgle with fear. My heart raced as he moved to the door and opened it. We walked through the door and were transported through time. A guillotine in the town square stood before me. Townspeople everywhere awaiting the execution of first Marie Antoinette. They don’t appear to be able to see me.
A man brings her to the guillotine and my friend unlatches the blade and it severs her head. The crowd cheered. I threw up. We were then transported to another guillotine at another time and we watched those who committed treason have their heads removed from their bodies. These were the other heads in the freezer. Then Robespierre. Oh horror of horrors! I could not shield my eyes from the bloodiness.
Then, readers, came the most disgusting part! My friend pointed to an area in clearing which turned to out to be a portal back to this world. In the freezer were the eight, now freshly severed, heads again. He picked each head up and put them on the counter. He pushed the eyes in and then began tearing parts of the heads off and eating them, and laughing. I threw up again.
When he finished eating he looked at me. The look in his eye was terrifying. He got up from the table. Pieces of people rolling off his clothes. He began to walk towards me and I began to ran. I ran for miles and miles until the the deafening sound of my alarm clock woke me.