Strange Brain Parts
Strange Brain Parts
short stories by Allan Hatt
Copyright 2011 Allan Hatt
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Table Of Contents:
I go down to the basement and there's my sister making out with Frankenstein's monster.
Rushing forward from the staircase I reach out, grab one of them bolts sticking out of its neck and give it a good pull. The monster groans in pain and slaps at my arm. The skin on my arm goes red where his fingers and palm smack me. Hurts to hell and back, but I don't let go.
I give the neck bolt a twist. The monster rolls off of my sister in agony. I see nothing but white scars on its naked chest.
Susie, my sister, yelling now.
"Goddammit, Stevie! What the hell are you doing? What the hell do you think you're doing?"
She don't seem to care her boobs are falling out of her unbuttoned top. She's just a ball of mad, kicking her legs at me, trying to get some hurt in.
“This ain't right, Susie," I say back, letting go of the bolt on the monster's neck so I can avoid her kicks.
“The hell you know from right?" she screams out.
The monster gets to his feet. He ain't looking too worse for the wear. But he ain't looking all that happy about having his neck bolt twisted neither.
I pull a lighter out of my pocket and flick it at him. He gets the message and backs away. It’s a well-known fact that monsters got the fear of fire. He keeps backing away from me. Looking at me. Palms up. Grotesque fucking fingers open wide. Fingers that might've been...
I fight back thinking of them fingers in Susie's crotch.
"Stevie, you asshole," says Susie. She starts putting her clothes on again. Not out of modesty, but because she's all tangled up in them. Might even want to give me the boots if the monster doesn't do it first.
The monster's making these sick sounds. No words. Just gurgling groans and shit. Trying to reason with me even though he ain't got a voice.
Dumb fuck. Dumb fucking monster.
I grab a newspaper out of the recycle pile and roll it up. Then I set it on fire and ram it at the monster. He bolts up the basement stairs and out the door onto the street in a flash. Flailing arms. Groaning in fear. I watch him run in the direction of his home, heading for the castle. Frankenstein's castle.
I run up the basement stairs and lock the basement door before Susie reaches the top of the stairs. She bangs on the door and yells insults and threats at me. I ignore her and get on the telephone. Word spreads fast. A little over an hour later about eighty of us storm Frankenstein’s castle with torches, rakes and fists. We grab whatever can be used as a weapon.
A good-sized mob with a head full of hate, off to kill a girlie-raping monster. Least that's what I told them happened. The monster raped my sister and all. Maybe that’s a little lie, all things considered, but I figure it’s one they all want to believe anyway. No one likes monsters. Can't trust them. They shouldn't be out on the street with us normal folk. And they sure as hell shouldn’t be lying with our women like real men.
It ain't long before the castle is in flames.
We watch.
Nothing comes out of the castle except some sounds we can't place. Some screaming. Monster sounds.
The fire trucks take a long time coming out and setting up. No one likes the monsters, like I said. Ain't too fond of Doctor Frankenstein, neither. The castle is a huge fireball by the time the firemen get around to spraying water on it. You could tell they were only making sure the fire didn't spread anywhere else.
The police started making arrests then. Me and a bunch of other guys get thrown in the back of a van for inciting a riot or some such bullshit.
On the way to the station the cop in the back with us says, "Don't worry, boys. You'll all be back home in a few hours. We had to make a few arrests for the TV cameras. You won't even see the inside of a jail cell."
True to his word we were all released. No charges. Each of us got a pat on the back and a little wink as we were led outside through a backdoor to avoid the TV cameras. Who would've thought cops were actually good people?
Some of the other guys wanted to get someone to bootleg some beer for us and head out to the drinking hole us teenagers go to get pissed. I tell them to go on without me, and I'll meet up with them later.
I still got shit to settle at home.
* * *
I get home. Relieved that the parents are away for the weekend at some retreat for married couples. "Primal Marriage" counseling or some shit. The best I could figure they run around the woods naked and scream a lot. Fuck while sitting on a stump, maybe. Don’t know and don’t care.
I ain't supposed to be alone in the house with Susie on account of some stuff that happened a few years ago, but with the medication and all the parents think I'm doing better. They’re trying to do what they figure is the right thing and show me some parental trust.
Susie's sitting in the kitchen. I look and see the basement door knocked off its hinges and lying on the kitchen floor. When she wants to Susie can lay the boots to damn near anything. Except me. She don't ever lay the boots to me because she knows I ain't afraid of hitting back.
"I hope you're fucking happy," she says.
"Ain't right being with a monster like that," I say.
"You don't understand."
"What's to understand? He's a fuckin' freak."
"And you're so much better? Hunh, Stevie?
"I'm a human. A man. That makes me better.”
"You're a boy," she says, standing up. Her voice getting to me. It ain't all that angry and I can't figure out why. She should be yelling at me, but she ain't. "A stupid, fucked up little boy. And I know you'll never know what it's like to be a man. Not a real man. Not one that understands what it means to be decent."
I ain't here for a debate. I tune out what she's saying. Something else I got to do and while her mouth's flapping I figure now's the time.
My first punch hits her just above her solar plexus. Too high. She looks stunned. I go lower with my fists, working them into the breadbasket. Susie curls up in defense. I kick her legs out from under her. Great shot. Right behind the kneecaps. She crumples backwards onto her head.
I start kicking her stomach. Hard shots. I'm making sure they nail her between the hips. Right where the womb might be. The best I can remember from sex education and family planning.
I got to make sure she don't have a monster baby growing in her. If that monster got her pregnant from all that fooling around they must have been doing then she's damn sure going to miscarry now.
There's a noise. Sounds like it might've come from the basement stairs. All I remember then is white scar stitches. Just a blur of them in close-up. And a gurgling roar.
Lot of blurry motion, and the next thing I know I'm looking at my body. It ain't got no head, but it's standing. Spitting red everywhere. Through the legs of the kitchen table I see the goddamn monster that just punched my head clean off my shoulders kneeling by my sister.
Just before I fade out for good I hear Susie say, "Get his head."
* * *
I've been in the dark a good long time.
Never figured death would be all black. No noises. Nothing to see or feel. Just this fucking black. For what I've done I supposed I'd end up in Hell, but the best I can figure I'm nowhere.
Maybe I'm some forgotten soul. Don't know.
Don't know how much time passes either. Seems like a pretty long time to me. Months at least. But I can't be sure.
After a time noises start up. Weird noises. Faint at first, but then they get louder. Louder ain't right. The noises get clearer. That's what I mean. Like someone setting the equalizer on a good stereo. Getting the settings just right or something.
Ever see a movie where a robot gets damaged? Every time that happens the robot freaks out and starts talking weird talk. Words and beeps and shit. That's what I'm hearing now.
Takes a while, but after what I figure is a few more months, I start hearing full sentences.
"Test. This is a test. One, two, three, four."
Stuff like that.
I try to put together what it all means, but nothing comes to me right off. Never been dead before, so I ain't exactly sure what to expect. So far it's been pretty goddamn boring I can tell you that much.
"Stevie?"
The fuck...?
"Stevie, I know you can hear me. Doctor Frankenstein says this, uh, audio interface thing works now. I can see your brainwaves reacting to my words. This is Susie."
I got about a million words for you, bitch.
"You can't talk back. This is a one-way deal. So, just sit back and listen to what I got to say."
She seems to find that funny for some reason. Does this mean I'm not dead? Or is she talking to me in the after world or what?
"Now, listen here, you bastard" she says. "You're probably wondering if you're dead or not. Well, you ain't dead, but you're not exactly alive either. All you are is a brain in a jar that Doctor Frankenstein has kept alive at my request. How you like that, Stevie? How you like that, fucker?"
Susie...
"At the flick of a switch you could be dead. I could do it right now if I had the mind to. But I don't. I want your brain alive. I want you alive, Stevie.
"Remember that beating you gave me? I bet you do. I bet you think on it all the time. Probably feel some phantom hard-on when you think on it, too. Don't you?"
She goes silent for a time. Wouldn't deny what she said even if I could. It was a good beating.
"I was four months pregnant," she says, "when you started beating me. Hadn't told no one about it. Me and Frankie were gonna run away and have the baby. Then you burnt the castle down, tried to kill the Doctor and Frankie and beat on me. You fucked that plan up, Stevie. Fucked it up bad."
I'd be smiling if I could. The world don't need no monster baby.
"The beating you gave me didn't kill the baby. I never miscarried even though it looked like I was gonna. The Doctor took good care of me. I gave birth to him a month ago. He would have been healthy...he would have been a perfect baby boy if you hadn't beat me like you did.
"Our baby is deformed and...brain dead, Stevie. A vegetable in a broken body. A brain and body you broke. In a few years the Doctor says the baby will be full-grown. The hormones are all messed up for some reason and the Doctor figures he'll finish puberty in a year and a bit. And then...then it's only a matter of time before he...before he...dies."
I hear something I figure is crying.
"You can't imagine the pain, Stevie. You can't. But I'm gonna make damn sure you do."
