Feed

He walked to the bathroom. Feet slapping against the cold floor, mouth open, hair messy… he just woke up.

The bathroom door was open… not very strange, but enough to make him stop and think. He flicked the light on and walked blearily to the mirror and examined himself pulling his face and hair.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. He peered to his left at the shower, the curtain moved ever so slightly. "Hello?" He called. When nothing replied he figured the cat was drinking out of the shower again.

He sighed and grabbed his toothbrush. "Toothpaste… where…?" he threw the contents surrounding the sink about. "There…" He squirted a blue glob onto the bristles and started scrubbing his teeth sleepily.

The curtain moved again causing him to lean back, mouth foaming, and stare at the curtain for several seconds. The hairs on his neck were spiked high, his stomach tightened, and he felt very vulnerable. Something was not right…

Ignoring the feeling he spit in the sink and glanced warily around the room. He placed the toothbrush in a cup and picked up the soap lathering it in his hands. The sink ran while he massaged his face with the soap. His back prickled and his breath drew short. He spun around wielding a razor. Back stiff, heart thumping, hairs on end he saw… nothing at all.

The sink still ran. He turned and bent down splashing water onto his face. He came back up and screamed into the mirror. A dead man was behind him, eyes white, skin gray and dead, blood oozing from caked cuts. It's mouth opened revealing a black hole with only a few yellow spiked teeth. It groaned. "Heerghh…" and lunged onto him tearing hair out and ripping skin and meat out of his naked back. He shrieked and slapped at it. His wailing and crying, sounds from the very core of his being, did nothing… for it had already begun to feed…