Exploding Heads

[Published in Nasty Snips anthology]


Naturally, there was pandemonium when Mrs Grimley's head exploded. It happened so suddenly, and was accompanied by a sharp popping sound, and following the grotesque appearance of her brain whizzing across the ward there was uproar amongst both the patients and nursing staff.
"What the...?" cried the staff nurse incredulously, as if uncertain of how to finish the sentence she had begun.
One of the nurses fainted, and the others screamed in shock and disbelief, as did the remainder of the patients. Poor Mrs Grimley's head had been severed, or rather torn, just above the eyebrows, the force of the explosion causing the upper portion of her head to jump into the air about four feet above her, and then it plopped on to the floor beside the bed, together with an abundance of thick blood. Her ugly grey wig resembled a small, hairy rodent freckled with red specks, and lying dead, or asleep, next to her carpet slippers.
"I thought she was poorly but I never thought she was so bad," remarked Mrs Leather in the next bed, as she nonchalantly carried on with her knitting.
A nurse was in the process of scraping what remained of Mrs Grimley's dripping brain from off the wall, just above the vase of plastic white roses which were quickly turning into red ones, when further chaos decided to arrive. Namely, Mrs Klopczyk's head exploded too.
This was more intense and stunning than Mrs Grimley's effort. The whole of her head was ripped from her neck, and scattered violently in small, bloodied pieces around the room. Her mangled brain came to land in the lap of Mrs Toddington, who herself was shrieking with eyes agog. This only caused her to yell more loudly, much to the consternation of her fellow patients, who desperately endeavoured to turn off their hearing aids. Even those who did not have them attempted this, obviously with limited success.
"What the...?" cried the staff nurse. She still could not complete that sentence.
Another nurse was lost to unconsciousness, and so were a couple more patients, as more confusion filled the ward. A bewildered nurse lifted Mrs Klopczyk's brain from off the lap of Mrs Toddington, holding it in a previously-spotless pillowcase, as though it were some perversely holy relic. Shouts and screams prevailed, and Miss Cludgeworth, who possessed slight mental problems, was banging her own head against the wall, although that was perfectly normal for her.
It seemed as if the staff nurse was destined not to finish that particular sentence, because things turned even more hectic when Mrs Quinn's head became the third one to explode. This was a real humdinger of an explosion, the previous two examples paled into insignificance compared with this one. It was accompanied by a deafening, ear-shattering pop, and the brain this time splattered across the face of the staff nurse, so that she became speechless. A blessing. Mrs Quinn's nose came to rest on top of the collection of cream cakes that were due to be distributed together with afternoon tea. From its left nostril there oozed a slow, yellowish-green pus which itself looked like an alien type of snot.
Just outside the ward, furtively lingering with his hands firmly in his overall pockets, was Dr Stone. He was observing the weird goings-on, yet he was not attempting to assist in the calming of patients or the disposal of the half-headless bodies. He looked on with interest, as one of Mrs Quinn's eyes rolled across the floor, akin to a child's marble. He picked it up and deposited the wet object into his pocket. A souvenir. He watched Mrs Quinn's body twitch and spasm viciously upon her bed, and her bowels decided to move in a horrendous fashion, as she loosened the entire contents beneath her. The stink was terrible, and caused another patient to faint.
A shaking nurse was cleaning up a foetid pool of thick crimson slush from off the floor, as another disturbed member of staff vomited an additional sludge-pile just beside it. The staff nurse was trying to wipe away the remains of brain from her face, which reminded her of the sponge pudding that was served in the hospital canteen. At first she vowed never to eat that particular dessert again, but after accidentally tasting Mrs Quinn's brain she revoked that decision.
"What the...?" she began to utter once more. This was getting silly.
Dr Stone decided to leave the awful scene. The incessant shouting, the horror on all those faces, the repulsive smell, the sight of those exploding heads, the blood and the brains and the gooey substances which had appeared from inside those heads. He himself had had a hard day, what with all the operations he had performed, and thought that it was time to return to the comfort of his home. So he sloped off, and departed from that chaotic ward, clutching his souvenir tightly in his sweating palm.
He revelled in the warmth of his Sierra, and the sounds of Orff on the compact disc player. The music was vehemently loud, and drowned out everything, including his thoughts, it seemed. Like a zombie he travelled the streets, ignoring the traffic around him, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He then replayed the afternoon's events in his mind, the exploding heads and the ensuing frenzy. This caused him to smile in an eerie and wry fashion.
He stopped the car on a street corner, and got out, turning up his jacket collar to protect himself from the late October chill. He looked around before entering the newsagents. The bell above the door tingled guiltily, and he immediately noticed that the shop was empty save for the assistant behind the counter. He approached him, adopting an authoritative manner.
"I'd like some more fireworks, please," he said.
He had never realised that brain surgery could be so much fun.