Got Your Nose

                                    

                                          
At first, it was just a game. With his ever-present grin and mischievous twinkle in his eye, Uncle Frank would corner one of the kids at family gatherings. "Got your nose!" he'd say, pinching his fingers together and wiggling his thumb in a playful imitation of a severed nose. The kids would giggle and play along, not realizing that the game would take a horrific turn one day.
It happened at Tommy's birthday party. Frank, tipsy on cheap beer and the high of being the center of attention, reached for little Jimmy's nose more enthusiastically than usual. But this time, as he pulled his hand away, something came with it-something fleshy and dripping with blood. The room fell silent, save for the wet splat of Jimmy's nose hitting the ground.
Jimmy screamed, his face a gory mask of disbelief and pain, while the adults stood frozen, their minds struggling to process what had just happened. Frank, still grinning but now with a wild, gleeful glint in his eyes, bent down and picked up the severed nose. The room erupted into chaos as parents rushed to console the wailing child, but Frank just stood there, turning the nose over in his hands as if examining a prized possession.
In the following weeks, the incident was brushed off as a bizarre accident, something to be whispered about behind closed doors but never fully confronted. Yet, something had changed in Frank. He became obsessed, driven by an insatiable hunger that gnawed at him day and night. The thrill of that first nose-how it felt in his hand, the rush of power-was intoxicating. He needed more.
At first, it was easy. Frank would attend parties, barbecues, and community events, always lurking in the background, waiting for the perfect moment. The next nose came from a careless teenager who had taunted him at a Fourth of July gathering. Then, a stranger in a supermarket parking lot had the misfortune of bumping into Frank on a bad day. Each time, he grew bolder and more cunning, perfecting his technique until he could snatch a nose in the blink of an eye without anyone noticing.
The more noses he collected, the more he became known as the Nose Catcher- a whispered legend among the townsfolk. Those who had the misfortune of crossing paths with him were forever marked, their faces grotesque and incomplete, while those who still had their noses lived in constant fear of losing them. It wasn't long before society began to divide into two distinct groups: the Nose People, who retained their noses and thus their beauty, and the No-Nose People, who Frank's twisted game had disfigured.
The No-Nose People were treated as pariahs, shunned and ridiculed by the Nose People, who flaunted their intact faces with a cruel superiority. The bitterness and resentment simmered beneath the surface, festering like an open wound. Tensions grew, and the divide deepened until, one day, it erupted into violence.
The streets ran red with blood as the No-Nose People, fueled by years of pent-up rage, rose against the Nose People in a brutal war. The once-beautiful faces of the Nose People were torn apart, their precious noses ripped from their bodies and trampled underfoot. The No-Nose People, driven mad by their disfigurement, became monsters in their own right, their hatred and thirst for revenge consuming them completely.
Through it all, the Nose Catcher watched from the shadows, his collection growing ever larger. When the final battle ended, and the world lay in ruins, Frank emerged from his hiding place, now a twisted shell of the man he once was. He walked through the desolation, stepping over the bodies of the fallen until he reached a place where he could build his throne.
It was a throne-like no other-visceral, grotesque, and utterly macabre. Made entirely of noses, it was a pulsing, writhing mass of decaying flesh and cartilage. The stench of rot hung heavy in the air, a foul testament to the countless lives Frank had ruined. He climbed atop the throne, his body sinking into the soft, putrid pile, and looked out over the devastated landscape.
The Nose Catcher reigned supreme atop his throne of malice, hatred, and destruction. Once filled with mischief, his eyes now glowed with a sadistic satisfaction. The world had destroyed itself, consumed by the very thing that had started as a simple game. And Frank, the man who had once been just an ordinary uncle, was now a king-his kingdom built on the shattered remnants of humanity.