There was a gargoyle perched on the corner of the courthouse on Centre street. I don't remember it being here the last time I passed by. Albeit, it has been quite a stent of time since the last time I came this far from my house. I feel like it wouldn't be enough time even for the greatest sculptor in the entire state of New York to carve such an intricate statue. It resembled The Old Great One, Cthulhu, with tendrils hanging from its mouth, and wings resembling those of a bat. Although unlike Cthulhu, this thing had piercing eyes, almost the size of my entire hand. Seeing it sent chills down my spine. I wanted to look away, but a grotesque curiosity kept my eyes glued to the statue. Just as it caught my eye, it left it. 

“New York sucks,” I mutter aloud. 

“Then, why haven't you left?” bites my brother, Fritz “See, you always say you hate it here. You're always talking about how much you dislike living here, yet you never leave. Please Liff, please tell me why”

 I opened my mouth, but as quickly as I opened it, I bit my tongue and clenched my fist. I shifted towards the passenger seat window and  looked at the stain on my shoe. Fritz was driving. The remainder of the trip to my house was silent. 

I live alone. My house is nestled away behind some trees. It's comfy. As soon as I crossed the threshold, keeping my abode from the outside world, I unzipped my jacket, threw it to the couch and kicked off my shoes. I stared at the ground; the red carpet felt fuzzy but looked abhorrent. Why don't I just rip it out? I put the thought to the back of my mind, along with the gargoyle. I walked past the kitchen, the only place other than the bathroom not infected by that disgusting red carpet. I pass the kitchen and head down a small hallway, halfway down the carpet snags my feet, and I almost fall. With a groan, I turn to the left, ending up in the bathroom.

 Flipping on the lightswitch and heading inside. The linoleum was cold, along with the rest of the world right now. I turn towards the bathroom mirror judging my own reflection. My hair covered my eyes, and my face was covered in scratches. My eye sockets were disgustingly shrunken as I was blinded by the lights. I move my cold fingers across my face. Feeling all of my features, I spend a particularly long time feeling my cheekbones, jawline, and eye sockets, The defining features of my skull, sharp. I exit the bathroom and head straight to my bedroom which rests at the end of the aforementioned hallway. Carpet, carpet carpet. My room is decorated with all sorts of shelves covered with the remains of animals. Mainly their skulls. 

Gazing around my room, I admire my collection. I've never killed an animal. I find them that way, I just liberate the corpses by preserving their remains. I find a lot of foxes. On my dresser is probably the only photo of my parents that exists. The photo depicts me, my older brother Fritz, and my parents; they were never really photogenic. They died a couple days after I turned 18, about 5 years ago now. Fortunately for me, I was left with an insurmountable sum of money. Unfortunately, I don't want it. I hate it even. Maybe I could use it to replace this stupid carpet. Moving my eyes farther across my dresser, I spot the skull of a domesticated dog that I found rotting in the woods about a year ago. I picked it up and resolved to put it on a different shelf. The entire time I rubbed my fingers along the top of the skull savoring the feeling in my fingertips. The grainy texture of it was comfortable, and I enjoyed sliding my fingers along the cracks.  I placed the canine's skull onto the second shelf from the bottom, joining the many other dog or canine-like heads I've procured. After I put it down, my eyes shot up to the glass case, which held my most prized possession: a real human skull.

I found the body in a ditch, it was already decomposing. I kneeled down beside it and took in the sweet aroma of death. I placed my foot over the person's neck and grabbed their head. With a single pull, I separated the two pieces. I looked into the dead person's cloudy eyes as their blood dripped on my feet. I took it home and cleaned it. I've never killed an animal. After my reminiscence, I decided to call it a night. As I lay down on my bed, I turn my face towards the window on the left side of my room. I recoil slightly. I could've sworn I saw that gargoyle again, instead of gray, it was green, and it stood hunched over in the treeline.  just as I saw it, it was gone. 

Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. I woke up and glanced around. Why am I awake? Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. I rub my eyes and stand up. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. What is that noise? Shuffle. I opened the door to my bedroom and peeked out. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. I can hear whatever is making this noise, but I can't see it from here. I creak the door open and slide out, as quiet as I can I progress through the now claustrophobic hallway as that damned shuffle gets louder and louder. Something smells foul. 

“Head... Where?”

I peek around the corner and see the source of the noise. A corpse, lacking a head bumping into the furniture and shuffling around my carpet . My heart is pounding. I try to creep back to my bedroom except the carpet decides to catch my feet and I fall. Whoever this was shuffled towards where I was, and before I could recover from my fall, comes within a foot of grabbing me. I rush into my room and throw a shelf towards the door scattering the crowns of deceased animals everywhere. My heart was racing, and I began to panic, I didn't have anything to defend myself; no weapons, no blunt objects, nothing. Whoever this person was, is now pounding at my bedroom door and trying to force themselves in, all the while gurgling about their head, their skull. 

Dead bodies can’t walk, dead bodies can’t talk, dead bodies are dead. Right? I coddled what I assume now is this person's skull in my arms and whispered this phrase over and over again. My frail fingers caress the cracks and imperfections of the skull  as its owner wailed on my door. Why? Why? Why? I know now that I have to get rid of this skull. I don't want to; I really don't want to.