It all started with the Injection gone wrong. They said an answer to immortality had been found, which of course very few believed, yet still attempted the beauty of such a thing; the chance to live forever.
I awoke that Thursday morning, to the beginning of the end. I woke looking at my patterned ceiling, able to see my pale yellow walls out of the corner of my eyes. I felt another migraine coming on. Apparently it ran in the family, something that seemed true, but only occurred after the injection. It worried me a bit. No one really knew what could happen if you had the injection, even the doctors said take it at your own risk. I pushed my silk duvet down a bit so I could reach my bedside chest, a fine piece of oak wood, adding to the peacefulness of the room. I took my half-filled glass of water and my pain killers so they would get straight to work. Of course at that time, I didn't know how glad I would be I'd taken them then, for what was to come was going to change humanity forever. I sat up, still amazed at how such and old bed had such good quality, which soon I would miss.
You could see the daylight through my curtains, a beautiful shade of beige, and the dust through the beam of light in the centre of the curtains. I always left them slightly ajar so I could see outside, I always did it as a child, it brought back memories I wanted so badly to relive.
I stood up and ran my toes through the carpets surface. I felt my nail snag on a piece of the carpet after I caught it on the door frame. The front of it was a between a purple and dark blue shade. I pulled the strand of carpet from my nail and put it in the wicker bin beside my chest, still after not taking the contents of it out for weeks. I took the cream polo shirt and jeans from the handle of my wardrobe, and the black leather belt I would soon need to replace after the pattern has almost fully deteriorated. I sat on back on the edge of the bed and put on my clothes, listening to the sound of a few cars driving past, the sound of birds outside, and the gentle shadow of the tree leaves on my curtains.
I stood again and put some socks on.
Old, tattered socks that I really needed to replace, I just never seemed to have the time. I walked onto the landing, and as I put my hand on the rail, a loud repetitive knock on the door. It sounded like a panicky knock.
I carefully walked down the stairs at a fast pace.
I came to the main floor and saw the door nearly coming through, and the curtain on the small square window was shaking as if there was an earthquake.
"Alright, alright I'm coming!" I shouted over the banging.
I removed the chain and undone the bolt. I went to pull the door back and was rugby tackled to the floor. It was a man in his early 20's. Short dark brown hair that was starting to reseed. Dark blue overalls that you'd usually see on a mechanic or technician, and black polished boots. He scrambled to his feet and ran through into my living room.
I got up, closed the door and took the knife from behind the shoe rack on the right hand side of the door. Part of the wallpaper had started to deteriorate. A perfect slot had been made where I put my leather holder in, with my trusty knife enclosed. It had been passed down from my father's father. He'd killed a great many in the war, and it was still in great nick today. I was only glad I found it just before we had to run. I walked into the living room where he'd gone. I saw him hidden in the corner next to the sofa. He was quivering and shaking, trying to hold on to each corner of the wall.
I held each side of the knife with my fingertips and faced him.
"Muddy footprints all over my lovely carpet, you cheeky little shit" I said, trying to make him beg forgiveness. It made me feel known, not to be reckoned with unless absolutely necessary.
"P-p-please, help me" He said, barely able to speak, he seemed mental.
"With?" I replied.
He looked at me, blankly.
"Look mate, I'm not bloody psychic, if I was I wouldn't have opened the bloomin door would I" I heard my London accent come out a bit, only something to be heard when I was concerned, or surprised.
"Th-th-they broke through" he replied.
"Th-th-they're everywhere" he clung to the walls now as if the floor was disappearing.
"Hang on a minute, who got through what?, who's everywhere?" I asked suspiciously. He seemed mental, but right now they seemed to be the wise ones other than myself.
