Toxic Masculinity

Maybe you remember that day or maybe you don't. Maybe you've blocked the day the world changed from your memory, that day when the world went mad. It is a scream that rips you from light sleep, a cry of feminine surprise and pain, and you roll out of bed, snatching up your knife from the bedside table. Cautiously you pad into the apartment's living room, skirt around the ruined furniture, and check the bolts on the front door. Relief floods you when all are secure but you're still on edge, the scream too close for your liking.

You've barely turned around when the door violently rattles, a powerful impact making the wood bend dangerously, and you whirl round with a gasp. Tightening your grip on the knife you back away, cracks appearing in the door as it again shakes. It becomes splinters under the weight of a third blow and you scream as a man, or what a man now is, enters the apartment.

He has to duck to get in, eyes narrowing as he spots you and nostrils flaring as he inhales your scent, before reaching for you with heavily-muscled arms. You skip around what used to be a coffee table, inching towards the bedroom, and leap to one side as he propels himself at you. There's a crunch behind you, you dare to think the man has killed himself, and you run, heading into the dimly lit corridor and the staircase at its end.

Your heart is pounding, or is it the sound of the man's footfalls?, as you hurry, almost missing the doorway in your haste. Steps blur beneath your feet as you descend, a quick glance up reveals you're still being pursued, but then you're in the car-park, your battered car in sight. A ground-shaking thud makes you freeze and slowly you turn, staring at the man occupying the stairwell. He's become engorged by the thrill of the hunt, iron length pointing directly at you, and this time you're just too slow. A wide hand comes down atop your head and then there's a snap as your neck is effortlessly broken, your eyes falling again on your car as your vision fades…