An Average Night

A young man is sitting in an office chair on a monday evening,carousing some random thoughts onto a pale blue monitor when out of nowhere a strike of lightning abruptly crashes the momentum of his work. Mere moments later all the power goes out. He glances behind him and out the kitchen window for a moment to see the white-wash lights of his apartment building glowing hazily. Curiously, he gets up to see if anyone else's lights have been knocked out. Peering over the balcony of his third floor apartment he sees that only his are out, while gazing upon the clear dark sky a crashing thud hit his front door. He cautiously wandered over to the door with images of a blond infront of the door and masked men sitting ready not too far away. Slowly bringing his eye to the lens of the peep-hole he looks to an empty hall-way. Thoughts of kids running down the halls, kicking at doors in a lit hall-way brought a certain amount of comfort to his alienated mind. He sat back down in his office chair and wondered about the power and where it had gone. Wearing some cotton pajama pants and black long sleeve shirt with a skull branded in the middle, sleeves having been rolled up to the elbows, he decided to wander out into the hallway. Pausing once opening the door as the masked men flashed up in his mind once again but no one was there, not to the left or to the right.

He slowly walked down the hallway, ignoring each and every door, these were people he did not know and people he would not want to disturb. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary he thought to himself. Coming back to his apartment, there was a blue glow to it now. Not from the lights he had lazily placed about but of his computer monitor. He atempted to turn on some lights but to no avail. It was possible that the light bulbs had been shorted but when he hastily unscrewed two of them, replacing with just as much haste it had no actual effect. He gave up. Focusing on why his computer monitor had decided to turn on by itself started to seep into his thoughts. It had only started booting up when he approached it and clicked the mouse a few times. Starting up but not like he had seen it so many times before. There was something different, slightly. He could not put his finger on it but he knew there was something wrong about the blue logo that flashed on screen. It looked like a person not the corporate logo. Images of masked men with a pretty blond in pink flashed up, ones similar to those that he had in is head. Then that of two boys, one younger and one slightly older, running down the hall-way kicking at a door here and there. Staring into the monitor like it had just insulted him and robbed him of his mind he scratched for the off button. More images popped onto screen, images of him fucking women he had worked with, scenes of him tearing men limb from limb, murdering someone that had wronged him in no simple way. More and more images flashed and with each passing one, he grew more and more desperate to make them stop. To stop these perversions of his mind from appearing on screen was his only thought. Tearing the cord from the wall-socket and throwing the monitor against the floor, cracking it into many fractured pieces. On these fractured pieces were more images. Those of him using shards of glass to gouge out an eye-ball from a skull. Sitting in a corner covering his face, crying, he wanted to make them stop but there was no stopping the flood of images from poring out now.

Suddenly, he was awake, aware of his black surroundings. He was in shock from the pain that gripped his body. He could not feel his right eye for some reason and his vision was hazy because of it. Feeling his stomach lurch a tiny bit he cringed. He was in his apartment, he knew that but not much of anything else. Familiar images of those masked men, a blond and some kids running down a hall-way crawled in slowly as though the pain were feeding them directly into his brain. There was a dripping noise, feint, from the bathroom that nagged at him to go see what it was but the pain was too great to bother with it at this moment. His toilet handle had not been properly pushed back up so he could hear a constant drain of water from the toilet; a problem that his supper intendant had told him they fixed. The dripping noise began to nag at him more so while he tried to come to terms with his pain. On touch his right eye was swollen and tender with droplets of blood that came and split around the fingers touching the battered tissue. He was hunched over beside his couch with a single light from the kitchen on outlining some dark objects but it was dim, more so than usual. He tried to lay to his right but caught the end of his couch with his should which begged the question of where his end table was. Light from the kitchen gave way to a slightly more crimson glow and allowed him to witness darkened blots of what seemed like black ink on the walls all around him. Another light stuttered to life revealing more of his apartment and that of a gaping hole in his wall with a piece of his end table sticking out of it, splintered and covered in more black ink. Slowly another light stuttered on. The main light of the apartment this time. finally revealing his apartment  to be a dried crimson brown with blood-soaked walls. The remnants of his destroyed apartment were scattered all around him. Fragments and mere shreddings of people that were sprayed across his apartment floor seemed like mere remnants of the people they mite have been at one point.

He sits now, wrapped in a heavy-cloth straight-jacket, kept safe in an asylum far from anywhere near his old existence. He will never know what happened and the only fragments of his mind that were still intact were those of the children running down the hall-way, kicking a door here and there and that of the blond sitting infront of his door.