The Man

There was a man. He lived in a crummy apartment in a large, crime-ridden city. One day he noticed that the world seemed dimmer than usual and the people seemed to have less personality. He also noticed that everything had less flavor. He figured that he was just sick and it was a moody day outside so he went back to bed. The next morning was the same, only worse. His yellow wallpaper was much dimmer than before and now was ripped, exposing rotting wood. He was now thinking he must be even sicker so he went outside to get some fresh air. On his way out, he grabbed a cup of coffee. It had little flavor and tasted, plain, even with extra flavors. The floors were cracked and he swore that he heard a moan and groan from inside the walls, but it must be the old apartment. When he went outside, a little boy limped past him. He went over to the boy and asked him what was wrong. The boy paused for a second, then looked up. His face looked like it had been chewed up by a creature. His nose was torn, one eyeball was missing, and his cheeks were shredded. There was no blood however. The man pulled back and the boy kept limping away. His imagination was scaring him, but could it be his imagination? He must be sicker than he realized so he went to get in his car to go to the hospital but fell asleep. He woke up and the steering wheel was popped out, the glass was broken, and a horrible stench was through the car. Skulls with pieces of skin still left stared at him through the windows, still twitching with life. The man got up. He looked around at the buildings. There was chunks of the building torn off, but still standing somehow. The man got up and went inside his broken apartment. The air was suffocating almost, but he could still breathe. The apartment was ripped and shredded with no signs of life around. His wall was just boards covered with slime now. The moans and groans were deafening now. He took his shotgun, the box and the gun were both unaffected by the deterioration, and so was he. The man now realized what was happening. He would recreate the world. He got outside and slept for a week. When he woke up, there was an endless concrete plain.