Story Part 2

Soda looks carefully around the corner, “Man? You okay?”
“I’m fine… look at my shoulder,” I say.
His eyes go wide, “what the hell? Where’d they go?”
That’s what I’d like to know, I think as I stare down slightly at an angle to my now unmarked skin. I close the bathroom door and pick up the pro-wrap and ointment that I had dropped, taking off my chain and binder I hang them on the door behind me. Slipping out of my boxers I step into the shower, the water as hot as it will go feels cold on my back and neck. Burning the skin red everywhere else, I begin to become even more confused. Did I do nerve damage with that gash that ‘was’ there? What the hell happened to it anyway? I saw it there clear as day and so did Soda. So very, very strange, eventually I step out of the shower and dry off. Sore as hell I wrap a towel around me and fall heavy on the couch, “you sure I didn’t hit my head man? It’s killing me,” I asked and stated.
Soda looks over from the computer, “yah, man I’m sure. Your head was fine, or well, as fine as it ever is,” he says while rolling his eyes.
I mumble thanks while flipping him the bird. I pass out into a restless sleep.
I wake up the next day and Soda had gone to work, the power had gone out while I was asleep I assumed because all the clocks were set back. Then I noticed not only were they set back but also continuing to go farther back, I had no idea what time it was but the sky was dark with clouds. The hairs on the back of my neck stiffen, as all of a sudden I’m on guard, nervous. There’s a crash in the laundry room and I run to the kitchen and grab a knife from the drawer. Pulse racing and breathing heavy I inch back toward the living room in the dark. Knife out in front I creep toward the door and stop short when I see that it’s been cracked open. It was closed when I went to the kitchen. Almost blind in fear I smell something; moist rust. Nearly paralyzed in pure terror as the smell registers in my mind as blood I swing around slicing at the air. The tip of the knife catches something and I feel wetness on my hand but see nothing in front of me. Another crash in the laundry room and I noticed the front door is now wide open. I run over and there’s nothing, the screen door is swinging slowly shut at the top of the stairs. I step into the laundry rooms’ pitch-blackness and the light’s all snap back on. I hear a whoosh from the hot water tank as it kicks back to life. Looking around I see large scratches all across the top of the washer and dryer, something had been perched there and it was something big. One step at a time I walk farther into the room when I notice something on the ground. Bending down by the dryer I see that it’s a small droplet of blood and I feel a random pang of sadness and hunger flash over me. Confused for a second I brush it off as nothing, I spot something just under the machine. Shining white I pick it up; a razor edged tooth is in the palm of my hand. Wide eyed, I think back and recall slicing something with my knife and feeling wetness but no blood. It must have been saliva from this beast. All of a sudden I jump up, compelled with an urge to clean off the tooth. Running to the bathroom I run the cold water over the tooth and wash the blood and spit off of it. Moving it around in my hand I feel it’s sharp edges accidentally slicing my finger on the point. Very sharp, I think to myself as I wander back to the futon. Laying down I continue to hold the tooth in my hand tightly pressed to my chest. I drift off into a confusing and terrifying dream.