A Strange Tale Indeed

I lay there unable to move or cry out for help.
The only senses available to me are stifling heat and the weight of my enemies corpse on my chest.
The smell of decaying flesh enter my nostrils but as i have been laying here for some time now my sent receptor pads have all but burnt out.
A sickly sweet taste of fly larva infested blood drips steadily into my mouth from a gaping shotgun wound in my foes forehead, unable to gag i vomit on myself.
Having laid here on the battle field for three days staring into the face of my long dead nemesis i begin to wonder the purpose of this war and why it became so personal to me.
The object of my hate and fear is laying dead upon my chest and yet not being able to move away from the empty shell instills life in the dead flame of fear.
Curious as to why my body fails me I begin to focus on different sections.
Dread envelopes me as i come to realize my limbs are no longer connected to the nerve endings my brain is trying to reach them by.
The sun is beginning to fall now as are the birds becoming quieter.
Suddenly the carcass is ripped from on top of me and torn apart by rabid dogs.
The birds then fly down and begin to peck at my useless tung.
I cry out silently as my head is raised by an unseen carnivore and i stare deep into the empty space where my body is meant to be.
The sun goes down and the world falls quiet...the pain is gone.
My three days were the three minutes the brain lives without a body.
This is the story of my decapitated head.