This is a short story about a dead man whose disembodied brain starts to do strange things. Originally written on the 4th July 2016 as part of the New Bizarro Author Series (Eraserhead Press) Spider Romance Microfiction Contest.
I watched as my brain fell out and landed with a sloppy splat upon the floor. I felt numb as a large spider slowly crawled over and had sex with it. I didn’t know spiders could have sex with human brains. Guess you learn something new every day.
The spider must have spilled its seed because it’s run off again. My brain looks exhausted. Should I feel violated? I mean, since it fell out, I guess it’s no longer part of me. I dunno. There’s not much I can do now anyway, besides look at the violated thing.
The image of my soggy brain lying on the tile floor remains with me for several months. The guy who cut my skull open and subsequently killed me is long gone. All I have left is this slanted view of my befouled organ. It looks a little fatter now. It’s hard to tell. Maybe it’s decomposition? I doubt it, it looks healthier than ever. No, it’s definitely growing. If death is nothing more than me staring unblinkingly forever at my own disembodied grey matter, then I guess I’ll content myself with charting the thing’s progress.
Around six months have now passed since I ceased to breathe. My brain upon the floor is most certainly bigger. It’s the size of a beach ball. The change in both of us is interesting, to say the least. I think my internal organs have putrefied and leaked out of my ruptured sides, for my bloated brain now sits in a blackened puddle of ooze. It’s unsightly, but my brain doesn’t seem to mind.
We’re at the nine month mark now, my swollen brain and I. My viewpoint has shifted somewhat recently, my body must have collapsed some more. The bulbous lump of grey on the tiles is twice the size it used to be. It’s started twitching sometimes, too. I’m beginning to put the pieces of this disturbing puzzle together. Gestating spider babies. Has to be.
I think I’m overdue, or at least my brain is. It’s been a little over nine months now, my body has long since turned to slush. I fell off the table a few days ago, now I lie upon the cold floor beside my pulsating, bloated hive of a brain. Thankfully, my eyes still face it. I need to know how this story concludes. Despite being closer than I have ever been, my vision is now so clouded that it’s pretty hard to make out. There’s just something about – oh, wait! It’s happening! My brain is rupturing! I can see them, thousands upon thousands of tiny creatures spilling out of my orphaned lobes. What are these things? Are they spiders? Not exactly. They appear to be little brains, with spindly arachnid legs sprouting from them. Spider brains. Thousands of the things. I was right, that spider did impregnate my brain. And I’m certain now, I do feel violated.
I don’t get to feel violated for much longer. These little monsters, my brain’s offspring, they’re looking for their first meal. They’ve found it. A festering slab of meat lying beside their torn womb. It’s a good thing they take my putrescent eyes first. Sight was the only sense I had left.