Peter didn’t clean much. His house was always a mess, and his kitchen was disgusting. Every time he turned on the lights, the cockroaches crawled. Everywhere, running around on the floor looking for darkness. Moving away from him, towards him.
Today there was something different. Just when he turned on the lights something fled under the bench. Something else. He didn’t really see it, it was too fast, but it looked like an… arm? He wasn’t sure.
Has to me my imagination, Peter thought. Shrugged it off. No one would fit underneath the bench. The crack was just a couple of inches. He went into the living room, brushed the leftovers from dinner off the sofa, sat down and turned on the TV.
Later he went into the kitchen again. The lights was out. He would have to change the light bulb. He got a flash light and went over to the drawers. He could see the creeps fleeing the light from his torch as it moved around, hear the crunching sound of cockroaches under his feet.
He opened the drawers where the light bulbs were. There was an old sandwich there, he took it out and threw it on the floor. Kept looking.
Something grabbed his ankle. A hand. Frightened he moved the light down. A hand covered with cockroaches was holding on to him. The light made it pull back, still attached to his ankle. Peter fell, the torch bounced a few meters. Cockroaches everywhere. The hand pulled him under the bench, even though the crack was too small for him to go under. He held on to the edge. The hand kept pulling. Another hand grabbed his other leg. The cockroach man was too strong. He pulled him under and into the walls.
Peter was stuck between the walls. The cockroach man was lying over him, holding him tight with his arms. A gruesome face, parts of the skin eaten. Cockroaches coming out of his mouth and nose. Peter could not move at all. Cockroaches was nibbling his skin. Crawling over him, under him. Entering his nostrils, his ears, into his mouth as he screamed, spitting, coughing.
The cockroach man started sucking on his jaw. Peter tried to get loose but there was no way. He screamed and screamed, choking on cockroaches going down his throat. Soon the cockroach man had all his face in his mouth. He died, drowned in claustrophobic terror