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The head hung before me. It hadn't been cut cleanly; the bottom edge of the neck was dripping with blood and was zigzagged and uneven. There was blood pouring from it like a tap, forming a small river on the ground. Its eyes were wide open, staring at me with a glare of utter terror. Its mouth hung loosely open, as if having gone limp after a wild scream. Its hair was matted with blood already starting to clot, but it was stretched out as it was being used to hold the head up. The hand holding it was hard, the knuckles broad but also white as it was holding the head's hair with such grip. My arms wandered up the hairy arm, and settled on his terrifying face. The man was grinning madly at me, his eyes that of a lunatic. His hair was greasy, incredibly so, and streaked back. He had no beard, but he had stubble where he hadn't shaved for a few days. Gazing into his eyes, they looked empty, yet still curious. He sent a shiver slithering down my spine.

He waved the head at me as though it was a gift and not a grotesque body part. He nodded at me to take it.

"No." I murmured quietly, my voice shaking.

He threw his head back and cackled, making me jump and fall back a few steps. He strode into my room, holding the head before him, like a trophy. I glanced down at his other arm and saw my Dad's hacksaw in it, caked in blood. It dripped down onto my beige carpet, sickly staining it. He walked past me and sat on my bed, spinning round on it so that he was sitting cross-legged in the center of it. He chucked the head at me, laughing wildly. It came soaring towards me and I watched it coming in slow motion, but I couldn't move to dodge it as I was frozen with fear. In my imagination I could heard it screaming at me, willing me to die. It smashed into my stomach, knocking me back further. I felt ill. I spun round and dropped to the floor, as puke flooded from my mouth. My eyes closed and the world went dark as I fell to the sound of a psycho's laughter...

I leapt around and around as the flames seared my feet, dancing faster and faster as pain filled my lower limbs. They licked at me like young puppies showing their love...ferocious, vicious young puppies. The flames were showing off their bright colours in the glare of a red sun overhead. My feet and legs were turning black as they died slowly from the heat. The sky seemed to glow another red..a darker, blood red. It seemed to be overtaken with an urge to change my bare skin a sunburnt red. My back was aching and pounding

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