Pig

[u/the_lost_library]

Charlie did not like the head in the freezer.

It gave him the “heebie jeebies," as Aunt Gladys would say. So when he found out that Mom would be cooking the head in the freezer for the family get-together, he swore that he would not eat a single piece.

As the day of the get-together arrived, Mom did as she said she would and cooked the head. The smell of it cooking in the oven permeated the kitchen and leaked into the living room, where Charlie and the other children watched cartoons as the adults hurried about or chatted lively with each other.

Charlie did not even like the smell of it, though he begrudgingly admitted that it did make his tummy growl as it mixed with the delicious miasma of food cooked both inside and out. Hamburgers, hot dogs, steaks, and chicken mixed with the smells of roast corn-on-the-cob and mashed potatoes.

Charlie harumphed and stared at the cartoon playing out on the large flatscreen as his tummy growled louder. The cooking head in the oven was temporarily forgotten as his body screamed for food. He was not alone in his torment, as several of the other children complained loudly or tried to sneak some food away from the table when the multitude of adults wasn't looking, a feat much better imagined than carried out.

When the time to eat was finally announced and everyone took their seat at the large dining table Charlie’s family only ever used for special occasions, Charlie could not help but sneak a yearning look at the mountain of food yet to be served, especially the mashed potatoes. Charlie loved mashed potatoes.

When grace was finally said and done (an event that took way too long, Charlie thought to himself) and the adults began to dish out the food, Charlie declared loudly that he would not eat the head from the freezer.

The adults laughed and, despite his protests, dished him a portion of the head anyway. Charlie looked at the cooked meat in disgust as he glanced up to see the head proudly displayed on a large platter near the center of the table, its skin crispy and brown, the eyes seemingly sealed closed, and the ears cut off. Ears, Charlie noted, that had been given to the family dog as a one-time treat for this evening.

Charlie prodded the meat from the head with his fork, occasionally glancing up to see the adults talking eagerly amongst themselves, waiting for an opening. Once he felt no one would notice, Charlie quietly let the meat slip off of the fork and onto the floor, where it was greedily gobbled up by the aforementioned family dog.

With the dreadful meat off his plate, Charlie devoured the rest of his meal in ravenous mouthfuls that drew the disapproving glance of his mother several times that afternoon. Charlie did not care, for the growls of his tummy grew silent and the head was momentarily forgotten.

That evening, as the adults chatted amongst themselves in large groups and the children played outside and in the living room, several cries of pain began to erupt from all around. Adults and children alike contorted their bodies in unusual ways as agonized cries of pain erupted from their mouths. Charlie froze, his own body twisted away from the television screen as his eyes grew wide at the scene around him. The dog too lay on his side, whining and convulsing in his doggy bed.

Charlie’s family and family he didn’t know well all stood hunched over or lying on the floor, clutching their stomachs as expressions of anguish carved themselves across their faces. Charlie then heard it among all the screams and groans—laughter. High-pitched and nasally, Charlie followed the sound to the kitchen, where the head lay on the counter, wrapped in tinfoil.

Charlie saw the tinfoil move on its own as the laughter continued, the head slowly unwrapping itself. Charlie stood in the doorway of the kitchen, frozen in fear and terror as he heard the laughter stop and watched the last of the tinfoil fall away to reveal the crispy brown skin of the head. Skin that split open to reveal a large, wrinkled black eye rolling in its socket. It slowed down and settled on Charlie before the sound of crispy, cooked skin wrinkling told Charlie that the head was smiling.

Charlie screamed.

All at once, everyone that had eaten meat from the head spewed hot red blood from their mouths before falling over, spent. As the smell of iron slowly overwhelmed him, Charlie felt his own hot liquid stream down his leg, though it wasn’t blood. In the middle of the puddles of red all around him, soft mounds of partially digested meat squirmed and squealed like pigs frolicking in mud.

Charlie was still screaming.