The Red-Haired Helmet

The group of guardsmen had been sent to inspect a disturbance at the edge of town. People had ended up mutilated, with the only perpetrator being among the dead, left a headless corpse torn to ribbons. Though a grim sight, nothing sounded too far out of the ordinary; Sometimes people get into the most rancid of arguments. So initially, no one had been sent to investigate.

Until it happened again, just the other morning. This time to a few other guardsmen, who were known to be of sound body and mind, who had been cleaning up the previous mess. Once again, the perpetrator was torn to shreds, but seemed to muscle through and ensure everyone around them dead, and was left very distinctly beheaded. But this time, a closer inspection of the assailant's body was made by two guardsmen as the rest made effort to clean up the mess.

The head hadn't been sliced off, at least not cleanly.

"What do ya make of this?" one of the investigating guards said to their partner, motioning to the torn sinew and shattered vertebrae. He stooped down to take a look.

"Damn... looks less like a sword and more like a tenderizer. Couldn't a' been a good way to go, but... how the hell did someone live long enough to do this to 'em, then drop dead? Everyone else's been butchered like a pi-"

A rustle in the bushes. All those present turn towards the bush. One carefully approaches and waves the flat of their halberd in it. A flash of brown runs from the bush and up a tree.

"...Bloody hell, it was just a squirrel."

"-Hey! Found somethin!" The group turned to the guard who'd called out. He was crouched over something red. "Don't suppose one of the first batch dropped their wig, do ya?" he joked as he held it up.

The entire squad gasped rather than laughed, though he didn't quite understand why at first.

That's when he looked at what he'd picked up, and realized it was a dark blue helmet; the red hair was some kind of decorative plumage.

One that had a lot of weight to it.

He made a disgusted noise as he dropped it to the ground with a dull clack.

The group gathered round as they looked at the new wrinkle in their investigation.

There was definitely a head in there, at the very least; The pale dead eyes were visible in the visor. But what got their attention was the blood caked on the mouthguard.

"We'll report it to the captain once we've cleaned up the rest of these bodies." one of them said as he picked the severed head back up, and everyone went about their business. But as they began lifting the bodies onto a cart, they heard a loud snarl and a gasp, followed by a sickening crack. Everyone turned to the sound of the noise.

They saw a gruesome sight. The guardsman who had been holding the head, gripping at his neck as he fell to his knees. Clenched tight to the back of his neck... was the red-haired, blue helmet. As the apparent jaws of whatever it was clenched harder, the last bit of life left the guardsman as someone moved in to try and swat the thing off with his axe.

It broke against the red-haired monstrosity. Like a seashell under a smithing hammer.

He backed away as the guard began to fall to the dirt... but caught himself with his hands as a red mist began to seep from the helmet and into the body. It stood up, shuddering as its hands grabbed its head, and began twisting. Each forced turn made a horrible crack until eventually, it pulled the head loose. It then proceeded to grab the red-haired helmet, which finally let go, and pressed it to the tattered stump. With an audible shiver, a pair of shining grey eyes peeked out from behind the visor as the creature stared at the guards, who had all long since taken defensive postures. All except one, who ran. Ran as fast as he could. For he was the messenger meant to inform the captain in case things went wrong. 

With a loud, inhuman roar, he picked up the halberd of the guard he'd overtaken and rushed towards those who stayed to fight.

The screams seemed to last for hours.