Metamorphosis 1 - Destruction
"As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect. He was laying on his hard, as it were armor-plated, back and when he lifted his head a little he could see his domelike brown belly divided into stiff arched segments on top of which the bed quilt could hardly keep in position and was about to slide off completely. His numerous legs, which were pitifully thin compared to the rest of his bulk, waved helplessly before his eyes."
"Oh! So the dream continues! And I'm inside Kafka's Metamorphosis! How strange!" He muttered. Perhaps because he shared the mains character's name? It already gave him some problem when he was a child... But this dream was so vivid, so real... How about sleeping a little bit longer and forgetting all that nonsense? Sounded like the best option, and so he tried. But he was used to sleep on his side, and this new shape prevented him to rotate his body... No, that wasn't his body! That's a nightmare! "I'll just close my eyes and sleep. When I wake up everything will be back to normal." He said, trying his best to breath slowly and relax.
After several minutes he remained pretty much awake, and started to look at his room. Why it was so dark and unkempt? Why there were so many boxes of medicines, syringes and bandages next to his bed. Most of all, why was he so hungry?
Gregor looked at his body again, but the horrific vision remained. Still dreaming, of course! Well, better to enjoy it the best he could. He never remembered well his dreams, but was quite sure they were never that imaginative... He managed to roll from the bed, landing on his six... no, eight spindly, but surprisingly strong legs. What a strange feeling! His arms and hands, however, looked almost normal, except for his nails, that have been replaced by long, blade-like claws. A tentative slash showed they were sharp enough to cut a candle as it was made of warm butter. On a way it was a cool nightmare, like playing a game on his computer.
A quick search on the room showed the laptop under some medicine books. Why would he, an engineering student, have those? He tried to reach the computer, but it was tricky to move objects with those claws. The first book he tried to grab displayed now five deep holes, showing he had to be very careful to avoid perforating things. After some more holes and hesitant experiences he managed to open the machine, pressing softly at the button to turn it on. There was no response, and connecting it to the charger did nothing. The lights also didn't work, so he concluded there was some power outage. Gregor looked again at the table by his bed. There was the candle he just cut, and the burnt remains of several others. He noticed again how dark the room was. The blinds were fully closed, and that intrigued him, since the room should be completely dark. He always insisted on that because he couldn't sleep if there was any light. However he could see quite well... But of course it was all a dream, so there was no need for logical explanations.
Time to explore the house, he thought. This strangely lucid and insane dream probably had many more cool things to do and discover. His bedroom door wouldn't open, but with little effort he broke the lock. Well, he was a monster after all! Having superhuman strength was no surprise. The long corridor was empty and full of dust, as if no one used it for a long time. His eight legs allowed a surprisingly silent advance while Gregor opened each door. All rooms looked abandoned, with closed blinds and dust covering floors, beds, everything. The dream obviously didn't contemplate the employees that kept the family mansion always clean and shiny, even on a floor where only his room, out of six, was permanently inhabited. His mother hated when he chose to move to the second floor, away from the rest of the family, but his father, dealing with the family business on another continent, indulged him, in exchange for a commitment to achieve top grades on University next year.
The large stairway looked just like the rest, but had, halfway to the first floor, an ample mirror that filled a whole wall, and what Gregor saw there made him stop. The closest animal he could recall was a lobster, but a pale and uncanny one, that had almost-human arms instead of claws and some surprisingly normal eyes. But jaws and mouth were proportionally much larger than any lobster would possess, and there were simply too many pointy teeth, almost as a shark. The most disturbing part, however, was the way the mouth opened, with a degree of elasticity he only remembered seeing on snakes.
It was an awful, terrifying vision, but at the same time somehow captivating, like watching a car accident. Gregor stood on the steps, contemplating how creative his subconscious actually was to create such a unique and disgusting nightmare, when he noticed the violin abandoned on the landing.
Sure, something related to his sister had to be on his nightmare! Always better on everything, school, sports, relationships... She even played beautifully the violin, while Gregor attempts on any instrument were laughable and rather painful to remember. He remembered going down those same stairs, not so long ago, following the music. But them it was his normal self, with just two regular feet on slippers.
Gregor reached the living room door, but didn't open it, just stood by the door, listening. The music was beautiful, and, he had to admit, skillfully executed. However the chosen piece also carried a deep sadness.
"Zora, stop that, please! Play some... something cheerful! Yeah, cheerful! For a change!"
The music stopped. "But mother, I... I can't! And you know very well why!"
His mother's voice sounded inebriated, and he recalled she's been drinking a lot lately. "Yes, yes, your brother, always your brother!"
"And your son, remember! He's up there, sick, and we already saw what that means!"
"Bah, it's jus... just some allergic reaction! He will..." the sound of glass touching glass interrupted the speech. "He will be better soon, you.. see..."
He heard the violin being laid down suddenly, its strings vibrating, and steps, and the sound of a bottle shattering against the floor. "Stop drinking! Stop! He's never been allergic to anything! You know that! Just face it! He got the damn Rash!"
Rash. Why that was so important? Gregor tried to remember, but just got faint images, news and headlines without context... Until a memory became clear. He was at his bed, the same bed where he had just awaken.
"Greg? Greg? Speak to me! Please!" It was Zora, his sister. He tried to answer, but somehow couldn't. His mouth wouldn't move. He was laying by his side, looking at the table where a candle burn, its flame steady. One of his hands was visible too, and was strange, almost completely covered in small red wounds.
Zora moved closer, and he could see she was wearing a surgical mask, and gloves. She lifted Gregor's head a bit, just enough to put a thin silver chain around his neck. She lifted a small hexagonal medal so he could see it. "Remember, Greg? Grandma magical necklace. She gave it to me before she died. You loved it when we were childs. It will protect you."
"It's no use, my dear." It was a man's voice, someone he used to know. The man entered on his view, also wearing a mask, together with a dirty white coat. He flashed a small lantern on Gregor's eyes. "There's nothing we can do. I'm sorry."
"We can't let him here! We can't! His my bro..."
"Brother. I'm aware of that!" The man interrupted. "Not the first, nor the last, I'm afraid. We have to move now. It's becoming too dangerous out there, and we can end up trapped in the city with this disease and... the monsters."
"Monsters? Don't tell me you believe in those rumors! It's all lies, people trying to scare the others so they can steal and..."
"They are real Zora! I saw one yesterday. Luckily we were able to shoot it down, the thing moved so fast! And took so many bullets to die. And I examined it, even if briefly. Don't know how that can be, but I swear it was half-human."
"But Greg! He..."
"He will die, probably. There's no cure for this. A few, according to the rumours, don't die, but start to change... And they wake up as monsters, hungry monsters. I've heard people are calling them trolls!"
Trolls? Monsters? Hungry? Gregor raised one claw to where his "neck" would be, and to his horror found a thin chain. The mirror confirmed his fears, showing a well known medal, the one grandma, that many accused to be a witch, had wear every time he saw her. He used another claw to scratch his "arm". It cut deep, and hurt like hell! A thin stream of blood felt on the floor, but soon turned on a slow trickle and stopped. The pain was still there, but subsided just as fast as Gregor's terror grew. It was real! He became a monster! Everybody ran away! He was abandoned on a dark room, sick, dying on his bed! He wasn't himself! Not anymore! Anyone that saw him would run, screaming, or shoot! Why? Why he didn't just die like most?
Gregor felt his anger rising, together with his hungry. He'd eat anything... perhaps anyone! But that would make him even more a monster, wouldn't it? a murderous... troll! Then an idea came to his mind. He could still get away from that nightmare.
And so he began to break walls, trashing everything on his way. The pillars took a little more effort, but the monster he inhabited was surprisingly powerful, and his engineering studies helped hitting the right spots.
A creaking began to spread all around Gregor, as cracks expanded on the house walls and on the ceiling over his head. He felt happy and his monstruous body, covered in dust, rotated as in performing some weird, soundless dance. The nightmare would be over soon.
A violent sound, almost like a thunder, enveloped him as the walls collapsed and everything went dark.
