“Why are you still awake, Scotty?” Clay asked his shivering friend as he pointed to the time on his
wrist-watch which read 2:32am.
“Head…less” Scott stuttered.
Clay turned his head to try and understand what his wounded friend was saying.
“Scotty, you’re shaking, man, what’s wrong?” Clay asked as he sat down on the side walk next to Scott.
Rather than answering, Scott just kept repeating the word ‘headless’ over and over again.
“Did you smoke something, Scotty?” Clay asked, looking around for a sign of something smokeable. Scott had been known
smoke and drink around this time of the year, for reasons that Clay and few others knew.
A few years ago someone had given Scott a joint, but told Scott that it was a rolled cigerette.
Scott went nuts and it took both Mason and Clay to calm him down and then hours of ‘babysitting’
their friend-making sure that he drank enough water.
“Head-l-l-l-l-ess.” Scott repeated.
Finally Clay had had enough and got up, walking toward the bus station.
“Headless!” he said to himself. “Scotty, my friend, I think you’ve finally flown over the cukoo’s nest.”
After a moment or so, he began to hear the sound of a skateboard coming towards him- ‘click click-click click.’
Not being able to see two feet in front of his own face because of the fog, Clay moved over to the street.
The click click’s were getting closer.
‘CLACK!’ the soound of the skater going off of the side walk and onto the street. Clay stepped back onto the side walk.
‘CLACK!’ and then ‘click click-click click!’
“What the heck! Who’s there?!” Clay shouted. He stepped off the sidewalk and began crossing the street.
‘CLACK!’ he heard again and began running. He tripped over the sidewalk on the other side of the street.
‘CLACK!’ he looked up to see a person without a head standing on the sidewalk with a skateboard on his hand.
“W-W-W-W-ho are y-y-y-you!” Clay stammered as he crawled backwards and away from the headless figure. “What do you wan–”
‘Flip…thump!’ with one swift motion the figure swung his skateboard, which was edged with a razor sharp blade, through Clay’s neck- lopping his head clean off.
The figure then walked over to Clay, collected his head and put it into it’s backpack.