Organized by Collection
Nightmare on King James StreetThere wasn’t much going on King James Street that day. The doors were closed, the shutters blocking out the world. Fruit drinks cans and newspapers skittered around on the pavement, the politicians grinning on the front page. A burnt out car sat on the corner, rusted pieces of metal sticking out at awkward angles, as if daring anyone to get closer.
More Like This
And a human head, rolling lazily down the road.
No one knew the name of the man who used to own it. One of the eyes was closed, the other rotted away so that only a black hole remained, staring indefinitely. The owner had probably been young - the hair had been badly dyed at one point, and a brown tinge was creeping out from under the blonde. There was a hole in the lip when a piercing had been torn out, probably in the same fight that had decapitated the man, and the nose was broken. The entire face was caked in blood, some of it old, some of it new. Under it all, it might once have been considered attractive, maybe even have made the