The falling lasted mere seconds at most, then he hit something hard.

"Thump" He landed head first onto a hard floor in a crumpled mess. Looking like a failed game of twister, he just lay there laughing. After a short while of manic bliss, cackling away like a cartoon villain he started to calm down.

He was now finally collected enough to actually think, he looked around the place he was in. It was gloomy and everything was shrouded in darkness, he could make out outlines that looked like furniture randomly placed against the walls and what was assumed to be a bed in the corner. It looked to be one of the landlord's spare rooms on the floor directly below his attic apartment.

Gazing up through his interlocked limbs, the hole he had fallen through was a wreck. All he could think was Carl was going to have a fit when he saw splintered and smashed floorboards.

The ceiling or floor whichever, both were appropriate terms he decided! It was completely destroyed, a human-sized hole was now there giving Carl a DIY sky view into the apartment. how did he fall through though? Was it rotting wood? He wondered...

Coming back to him, he had thrown a full-on man-baby tantrum, he kept kicking and punching the floor, was it that? He wasn't that strong, It's got to have been damaged first, he pondered laying on the floor surrounded by the aftermath of whatever it was.....

Thinking back to the tantrum, "He" had been kicking and punching, it was "Him", not RotBaby, but actually him!

His gaze went straight to his fingers, he was considering it all. RotBaby never shouted to cut off the pain that time and it hadn't spoken at all since, "hmmm, maybe" he windered?

Focusing on how to move he tried to feel the muscles in his hand. Concentrating on the sensation that had become natural after using it from the day he was born, he began to try and wiggle them. For a few seconds he just lay there with nothing but a constipated look on his face, he couldn't feel them individually. It all felt numb and weak...

Just as he was feeling dejected though, they twitched, it was only a slight jerk but they moved for sure.

Like an excited kid in a candy shop, he got giddy and his entire body jerked in a pathetic failed attempt at a celebration.

After about maybe 5 minutes he realized the problem was numbness, not having any sensation strangely makes moving around weird. It's not normally noticed until it's gone but sensation plays a huge part in moving.

The body uses things like contact with the floor to cut off leg momentum when walking, or while picking up items the brain waits for feedback to realize it has fulfilled its objective. Needless to say, it was a lot harder with limited tactile sensation. It was possible to do it but it required focusing on coordinating every movement to know when it's finished. Even rolling flat from his mess took a lot of work, when he had fallen he landed with a crunch on his left arm. He felt no pain but when he finally got it out, there was a grinding sound from his shoulder.

It took a bit of effort and a lot of patients but he got into an almost leaning position. The shoulder looked weird like it was not quite in its usual position, he could move it but it jerks and grinds oddly.

Deciding the lack of pain was a good thing he began swinging his arm left to right using momentum to tug the joint. A loud popping noise filled his ears and he actually felt something in his shoulder slide with a sucking noise. It wasn't painful but there was a dull thump feeling when it happened. Maybe the numbness would wear off he wondered. Feeling more confident now his shoulder looked more normal, he began to sit up.

Did he win? He hadn't heard the voices for a while, "Am I back to normal, was all I needed to do is to tell them to fuck themselves?" He wondered.

"Wait was that even real?" He started thinking over all of the shit that had happened, "holy fuck" he thought. Maybe it was oxygen depletion in the brain.

He wasn't a doctor, but if hyperventilating could make you faint? With that logic then maybe a bodged attempt at hanging yourself cut off too much air and it sent his brain weird. If that belt was tight enough to cut off most of the oxygen but left just enough to live, "yeah yeah" and that could explain why he was still numb too, if it was pinching the nerves in his spine.

"Hahaha", he laughed at himself now. Maybe he really was nuts, especially considering at the end he was actually starting to buy it too.

He looked back up out the hole towards the door and the handle that the snapped belt was still attached to. Shivering from the thought of it. He realized how close he really was to being dead now.

Unsure whether it was lucky or not to still be alive, he couldn't feel his legs yet and it was way too dark to see the bite on his ankle but that wouldn't have disappeared for sure. The festering wound wasn't an air-deprived hallucination, he sighed "still infected then I guess"...

Then it hits him, if that part was real, then he was in Carls apartment, "shit" he grunts through gritted teeth, he wasn't safe here!

Looking around the room in a panic, nothing was moving and the door looked closed from what he could tell. He strained to focus on his ears, he couldn't hear anything moving to the room from outside but silence just made it scarier. He wasn't sure where Carl was or even if he was still alive but for now, he would assume he was.

Frantically thinking he wondered How long the numbness would continue, Carl would have noticed that crashing, he needed to get out of there fast.

Panicking he started flexing his limbs hoping to pump some blood to the muscles, after a while, he gave up realizing it wasn't working. Some sensation had returned but even though he could now feel his extremities it was like they were dead. Rubbing his hands together, he felt no warmth or texture it was just a numb dull pressure, "Weird maybe the nerves in my spine are seriously damaged?" He wondered.

Thinking on it now, since he had woken, other than that so-called punishment delusion, he had felt no real sensation at all. Even landing from the fall didn't hurt as it should have.

He had heard about this type of thing in documentaries, real people with rare abilities like powers. These weren't real powers at all but strange conditions caused by genetic mutations. In the case of a guy who couldn't feel any pain, it was actually a condition they had called congenital insensitivity to pain or CIPA for short, he remembered. He hoped it wasn't permanent though, this didn't feel right to him.

Once he'd come to terms with no sense of feeling in his body being there, he put his attention into the bigger priority of getting out.

It was still quiet in the room and just outside from what he could tell, but these old houses had thicker doors. He couldn't be sure Carl wasn't lurking just past the door, he wasn't safe in here and needed to move!

With more energy than he expected to use he had clumsily gotten his knees under him. This wasn't the time to be slow but it also would be dumb to stumble and make more noise now. Every second it took to get up he became more unsure why Carl hadn't heard him yet though.

Straining and grunting he managed to get onto his unsteady feet. He looked around the room more. His eyes were completely adjusted to the dark, he could make out the details of the furniture. This might of been Carls deceased Mom's room from the style of it. He had never really looked around so wasn't sure, but all that was needed to be known is, it was a dark room full of dusty expensive antique looking furniture. Scanning the room he located the door on the far side.

"Ok," he thought, time to move, he took an uncertain step forward but again it felt weird. His body was sluggish and clumsy. He wondered if it was from not moving around for so long or maybe the lack of feeling was putting his spatial awareness out. Paying more attention to his jerky movement, he put his weight onto the forward foot and took another step...

He stumbled and almost went face-first into the wall as he collapsed losing balance. Luckily the wall stopped most of his momentum though and with an uncanny impression of a certain spiderman who couldn't climb, he managed to stay upright.

Gripping the wall for support like a lifeline, he took a few more steps, sighing in relief when he finally reached the door without further problems.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Close enough to see now, it was a large dark varnished door with a huge round heavy metal knob to open it. The texture felt weird when touching the doorknob. He was expecting a familiar cold smoothness to it from the metal only to have nothing but a dull pressure greet him. This was going to take a while to get used to, "maybe it will fade" he hoped internally.

Trying to be super quiet he began to turn the knob slowly, it squeaked slightly but it opened easily.

Pulling back the door slightly he peered out through the gap, looking down the landing hallway there was no movement or signs of Carl. At the end of the room the landing windows were completely covered with sheets, even if there was any light out it wouldn't seep into here.

Wondering to himself, he hadn't noticed that the last time he was here. "I wonder if the cur... virus" he caught himself fast, he didn't need more insanity now. "I wonder if one of the symptoms is a dislike of light" it was dark last time too, "Hmmmm", he thought.

Feeling more confident after seeing a deserted hallway, he opened the door fully and creeped out onto the carpeted landing. There were 4 more doors in this hall including the one to his internal stairs. Carl wasn't out here so he definitely didn't die!

This was both a relief and a regret at the same time, but at least he got confirmation he wasn't a murderer. Of the other doors here two were open, one of the open doors was unexpectedly Carls room. The last open door was maybe the toilet, but he wasn't entirely sure. He couldn't see fully into the rooms because of his angle and the dark but it seemed like Carl wasn't up here.

He had thought about what to do to get out, his first thought was to head upstairs to his apartment, but this was quickly smushed out by the realization the door was locked and barricaded. The option he felt most confident in and the one he was working on was the front entrance at the bottom of the stairs to the first floor.

Still not completely steady and unconfident in his walking, he kept one hand on the wall for support. Trying to move with as much control as possible, he inched forward slowly.

Everything was still quiet when he got fully out onto the landing. Looking right towards the way down, he started counting steps in his head. He guessed maybe twelve steps and he would be just a set of stairs away from the door out. Looking left the rooms seemed empty, or at least Carl wasn't in sight. Steeling himself he turned, ignoring the bedroom, if he could get there fast enough Carl might not even notice him.

Limping for the stairs down to the ground floor and his gateway to freedom he counted internally. "One, two, three... Creakkkk" he froze head violently swiveling looking out for any sign of movement. After a few terrifying moments, nothing happened and after a few more seconds gathering himself he continued. "Four steps, five steps, six...."

"ughhhhhhhhh"

Terror filled him and he froze where he was, the sound had come from downstairs he was sure. The sound was like a heavy rough groan coming from below. He waited there silently listening, nothing more came and he had to do something other than play statue.

He was so close to the stairs now, if he could just get down them, the door to the outside is right there facing it. He started thinking of what to do next, scenario after scenario played out.

"He could make a run for it and hope speed would save him" but then he remembered he could barely walk right now, running wasn't an option. Out of the increasingly wild plans he made, which included jumping through the window like an action hero. He settled on the safest option.

He would just keep on with what he was already doing, Carl wasn't running up here so he either didn't know he was here or was unable to. Maybe that virus made him sicker now or maybe he was just out of his mind. He would make a better decision when he could look down there and access it more.

He took a few more steps and without any further groans or sounds, the stairs were in his reach.

Getting to the polished wooden banister he glimpsed over slightly, the lower floor was just as dark as the rest but his eyes were used to it now. The front door also had a large dusty sheet covering it and the washed-out grey walls combined with big imposing victorian furniture and old painted pictures of gloomy British landmarks made the groundfloor hallway seem like some weird black and white noir horror set.

He couldn't see Carl from his viewpoint but from the sound, he would guess maybe he was in one of the rooms down there. He didn't think the sound was close but it was muffled, it would be a risk he had to take either way.

Slapping his face to bolster his confidence, he wondered why he did it, old movies sometimes have the action hero do things like it so he tried it. In truth though, he didn't feel braver at all after, "maybe it's the missing sensation of a sting that helps" he thought. Counting down from three he was off!

Gently lowering himself down the top step, there was a small creak when his weight was on it. With all the noise so far he wasn't sure carl could even hear sounds at all now, how had he missed the crashing? He wasn't taking any risks though and moved with caution just in case.

He took another and then another and with every step, his confidence grew as did his speed. He started to anticipate getting out more the closer he got. Six steps down everything went sideways.

Sideways wasn't meant in the metaphorical sense either "nope", that did happen too but nope. The world started spinning, as he placed his foot down onto the seventh step.

His foot had betrayed him, it just kept going without any care for his poor body's opinion. The steps just disappeared from him as he slid feet first, his grip on the banister wasn't strong enough and he just slipped off the smooth over varnished wood. He slid the rest of the way, bump bumping with every step, there was no way to stop himself and he eventually crashed at the bottom.

Like a blooper reel from the home-alone movies, where they forget to open the door, he slid down the stairs and hit the wall.

He didn't feel any pain but the crash was huge making a huge ruckus. For a second he lay there listening thinking any second Carl's savage face would be there.

But nothing came again! After a second or two of thinking "I'm about to die" his sense caught up, he got up as fast as he could pulling up on the railings for help.

His feet were even more wobbly and he was swaying now too, but he saw the door! It was right there in front of him, so close he could taste the safety and freedom it offered. All that was needed is to unlock the latch, turn the handle and he would be out.

Diving the three steps forward to the door, he grabbed the handle shaking it but before he could make progress a gut-wrenching sound came from behind him.

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

For the first time since this started, he felt something! His spine started tingling and his fight or flight instincts took over. Without looking he started scrambling for the latches fumbling it with his numb fingers. Another sound came as he was just starting to make progress with a particularly fiddly turn, the suddenness made him slip springing the lock back in place. "Crap" he grunted!...

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" this time though, there was a dragging sound with it. It wasn't right behind him but it was closer now he thought.

He was frantically working his fingers trying with everything he had to get enough control to unlock it. Risking it with his failing attempts, he turned his head glancing behind.

Expecting to see Carl standing there snarling and foaming from the mouth, all he found was what looked like a pile of blankets on the far side of the hall.

Eyes darting left to right there was just empty space around him. He wondered if Carl was maybe in one of the rooms down here, somehow incapacitated?

Through the dull washed-out color everything had become in this darkness the pile of "laundry or sheets" he wondered, they ruffled slightly.

It was too dark to see all the details but looking closer he saw something from under it. The terror came back and he froze, Carls hand was visible just under what now looked to be a person-shaped mass under a blanket.

Snapping him from his deer in headlights state the groaning came again followed by more movement. The arm gripped the ground and drags just enough to move a little bit forward. The blanket drags revealing more of the disturbing scene below. It wasn't so much scary, it reminded him of a dying animal trying to get to the water, but too weak to move.

He knew inside his mind, this was his chance, "just turn and run"!

Even taking a step closer, his mind screamed at him "this is a mistake, RUN!". Here it was again though, logical thinking was fighting out the insanity, he reassured himself "Carl was just sick, it wasn't his fault!", then the thoughts of "What if this was my fault?" started guilt-tripping him further. He wondered if Carl had been badly hurt when he kicked him down those stairs...

He called out "Carl are you ok buddy?", no coherent response came but another groan did!

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

He was starting to get a bad feeling, maybe he'd gone too far and seriously injured his landlord.

"Carl was just suffering from a virus then he was violently thrown down a flight of stairs by his idiotic tenant", He could see the headlines and he cringed hard.

"This was an accident, right? Oh shit, I'm fucked" his mind was full of scenes of him getting porked in some grungy prison showers as a cruel punishment for crippling a sick person.

"Left for days with no help, all because I got scared and hid" he muttered to himself while getting closer, putting the whole thing into a new light made it less scary somehow.

"He should have tried to talk to him or something", he thought...

But wait! Carl attacked him first, he halts, "oh crap" was Carl still psychotic?...

His inappropriately timed contemplation gets cut off as the mass drags itself again with another grunt.

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

Feeling safe in the thought that his landlord wasn't moving very fast, he knew he could run if Carl did try something. So with logic coming in again to ruin his day, he made a stupid choice. Moving more towards the mass in his slow unsteady way, he saw it now Carl was lying face down on the floor wrapped in a huge blanket.

The sprawled out landlord had His legs and arms at odd angles and he was using a single leg and arm to shuffle forwards.

The exposed skin from where the covering had slipped down away looked covered in a dark thick liquid, "maybe blood?" he wondered, with the darkness, it was too hard to be sure.

Using the wall for stability, he crouched closer to the mess that was Carl. "Are you ok mate? Look I'm sorry if this is my fault!" again the only response was a groan.

"Ughhhhhhhhhhh"

Seeing the sorry state of the guy, he decided it wasn't a threat. He placed his hand onto Carl's shoulder and nudged him "You ok buddy?" He asks softly...

Still, no response coming he Pushed a little!

Carl began to roll, he wanted to check for consciousness but as the body slanted over their eyes met, cloudy dull eyes looked back at him. The blank look in those far-out eyes turned to instant recognition. It was like a light bulb switch on in Carls mind and with a now focused gaze, a spit-filled snarl filled his vision.

He had seriously fucked up and now this time even logic agreed, it was no longer fighting the real world, logic had upped and ran from the building as he should have before. He screams out in terror clambering backward to escape the horror of those brown-stained gnashing teeth filling his sight.