Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your daily dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.
Today’s entry: Job Interview
Enjoy!
“Welcome to my home.”
The world around Bjoern blurred itself back into existence. He was still in the sewers. It was just decorated to look like a family home.
“Chop, chop, eyes on me, okay?”
Bjoern turned towards the man on what once was a kitchen chair. Arm rests and ornaments had been attached to make it into a throne.
“Who are you?” Bjoern’s thoughts grasped at the memories of the morning. He went to meet Gift-Box. He saw an undead Santa. Two elves chased him down the sewer. Then black. He looked at his shirt. The buttons were untouched. He was still recording.
“Me,” the man said. “I am Nick. Gift-Box. A family man. Or was until the bastard over there took them away.”
The man pointed at the wall behind him. A wall covered in heads, Bjoern now realized. 15 heads to be exact. They all moved.
“You are Gift-Box, and you have living heads on your wall.” He made sure to articulate the words. All the questions Bjoern had prepared for the meeting seemed irrelevant now.
This was so much better.
“Yes.” Nick turned to the heads. “They are my court of heads.”
“I will kill you!” One head said.
“You say so all the time Piotr, it is getting tedious. Can’t you just get over the fact that I killed you. I promise, I might try to get over that you slaughtered my family. Just for some freaking stones.”
“Why do you have them on a wall?”
“They are my advisors. Or most of them are. Piotr is for decoration.”
“Advisors for what?”
Nick tilted his head and gave Bjoern a weird look.
“For my next move, off course. Madeleine said we needed someone to document all I have accomplished, so, here you are!”
“The world will turn red!” One of the heads said. “The end has just begun. Magalago said so. What Magalago said is the law.”
“Sorry,” Nick turned to the head and smacked it. “That was Timothy Galan, he read the great journal of Magalago and claims he knows all that was and all that will be. The world translated that as over his head crazy. But I think there might be something to it.”
“The man in red has attacked. That initiates phase 1. Soon the red will come.
This time Nick punched Timothy’s head with his full force. “Do you want me to dip you in poop? No? Then, shut up.”
“Once again, sorry. Heads can be so unpredictable,” Nick continued as if nothing had happened.
“What do you want with me?” Bjoern asked with his eyes still on the fifteen heads.
“I want you to join my court of heads.”
Bjoerns heart froze. “What if I don’t want to?”
Nick tilted his head. “Do you think you have a choice?”
Nick snapped his fingers. Everything turned dark. Pain struck through Bjoern’s neck. He screamed, a lungless scream.
“Welcome to my court,” Nick said.
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