Carter scrambled up, brushing himself off and grabbing his gun from the floor. “That... was the most horrendous thing I’ve ever experienced.” He huffed. “The single worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” Shivering, he went to the door and looked out onto the living room-kitchen combination. “There could be so many more...” He whispered to himself. “Bugs... God, I hate bugs...” The room didn’t reply, but he thought he heard someone speak. It wasn’t quite a feminine voice, though. He turned to look at Alia when she asked her question. “Say something? No. I mean, not necessarily.” He shook his head. “Something’s so wrong here. So wrong.”

He stuck his tongue out at the crunching sound. But the instant he looked down he wish he hadn’t. More beetles. An infestation, basically, and that word was good enough for him. Regardless of what he noted it as, it was disgusting, and he backed up as they filed from the room. He stepped over the low table before the couch and scrambled up onto it. The cushions seemed water-filled, and bounced and flowed oddly underneath him. But his eyes didn’t leave the insect line, nor Alia, as she watched them go from bedroom closet to window, open it, and scurry out. “Good riddance!” He yelled, throwing the empty magazine he’d just ejected from his gun. “Disgusting, useless, horrific things...”

He reached for the case of magazines left on the table, until the entire thing shifted away from him and ran up against the door as though pushed by an invisible force. “... The hell...?” He leaned forward, setting the empty gun down and crawling toward the table again. Halfway there, however, the entire floor started sinking below his hands and knees and dropped him into the middle of a large dip. The couch and table remained where they were, however, as though defying gravity. With a racing heart Carter grabbed the back of the couch and lifted himself up, the shift of weight returning its normal solid, horizontal state.

“Are you seeing this!?” Carter turned his gaze to Alia, repositioning the glasses that had been knocked askew. “If not I’ll seriously doubt my sanity...” He stepped forward, but felt that his legs were incredibly heavy. Inspecting the floor again, he discovered that the old rug had sucked up his shoes and left him standing as though planted there. “This is ridiculous.” He huffed. “Alia, please, can you get me a knife from the kitchen?” He nodded behind him. “First drawer to the left of the stove... I’m cutting myself out of this one way or another.”

He had to suppress a laugh of disbelief. If he laughed, Carter was sure Alia would question his sanity more than he was. Whatever was happening was certainly happening to both of them, so Carter wasn’t really crazy.