The Porcelain Man
Jack was an up-and-coming certified public accountant with a chip on his shoulder and a new apartment in a new city. Today was his first day at his new job and he felt like now, it’s time to unwind for the evening. He prepares himself a luxurious meal of ham and cheese Hot Pocket and Sour Cream and Onion Ruffles, then prepares his spot on the couch to play video games. RPGs tend to be his go-to when he is looking to relax but today, he was feeling like a shooter. Valorant maybe? Nah probably Apex he thought to himself. He plops down on the new fabric upholstered couch from Ashleys that was less than comfortable but was too good a price to pass on.
Jack loads up his Xbox but Damnit he thinks Forgot my drink. He rises from his place with a labored huff. He shuffles his way to the kitchen, not a difficult feat as the apartment is primarily an open floorplan. The kitchen is only separated from the living room by a bar counter, so it's only a small effort to reach the refrigerator. He whips the door open and reaches for a light beer. He had done some minimal shopping to get him by till the weekend. He is primarily stocked up with microwave meals, snacks, and soda. He takes a moment to admire the cleanliness within the new refrigerator, as it will inevitably get crusted with various spills in the future so its best that he takes in this unicorn now while he can.
Upon closing the fridge, he looks at the tips of his fingers in surprise. They have a glassy sheen to them and, now that he thinks about it, they are numb? He calmly sets the beer down on the counter and observes his hands. He touches his fingers to his face, surprised to feel that his fingers are cold to the touch. With a little more urgency now, he runs some warm water in the kitchen sink and rests his fingers under the stream of water. Could this be some sort of neuropathy? Does neuropathy make your fingers cold? He shakes his head to regain control of his racing thoughts. After a few minutes under the water, he leaves the kitchen to grab his phone but once he has it in hand, he finds he cannot unlock it. He goes to enter his passcode, but the phone does not recognize the finger contact. The fingers tap on the screen with an unsettling clink that makes Jack shudder. What the fuck is going on?!?! He can feel his heart beating out of his chest at a million miles per hour and he finds himself having a harder time controlling himself from beginning to panic.
Before he knew it, he dropped the phone on the floor, and when he goes to pick it up, he can no longer squeeze his fingers around the phone case to grip it. His fingers are frozen in the perpetual half cupping position they were in while holding the phone. Hyperventilation begins, what do I even do? Should I try to make for the neighboring apartment and hope they respond?? What would I even tell them? He tries to slow his breathing down and think, Have I taken anything, started any new medications?
How old am I? When does schizophrenia usually present itself? I think if you're going to get it, you start showing in what.... your early 20s? I’m 24 so that's possible. Yeah, probably a hallucination.
If I’m hallucinating and I flag down a neighbor, they will probably call the cops too... Would I be committed? I’ll miss work!
Can you even wait out hallucinations? What do I do if it doesn’t stop? -
His racing thoughts are interrupted by another mind-shattering realization. He can no longer feel anything below his elbows, and he cannot control his lower arms. Upon further examination they are also glistening like glass, it’s as if his body were turning into pure porcelain. The panic sets in again as Jack makes for the front door and finds he cannot open it. Frantically he looks around for some means to open the door but ends up forgoing other options to attempt opening it with his foot. He uses the curve of his foot to try and grip the smooth cold doorknob and he can feel it start to rotate. His leverage is weak though and the knob shoots back to its resting position. God! Why didn’t I take up yoga back when I was in Tulsa!
Jack cries out in both pain and despair as his panic begins to turn into tunnel vision. He looks around to come up with a new solution to get out of the apartment but finds himself having a hard time concentrating on any single thought as his mind races.
This isn’t a hallucination, it can’t be! What the fuck is going on!!! It’s real, it’s fucking real, what the fuck.
He starts to sob and sink himself to the floor in front of his front door. He can feel the snot sliding down his face and the red-hot inflammation in his face. His eyes burn from the saline-esque tears, blinding and blurring his vision to all around him as he gives in to his despair.
Am I going to die? What can I even do? Is it just my skin that's hardening or is it everything?
He eyes the pillar separating the kitchen and living area and has an idea that makes him squirm. He struggles to stand up, but he slowly makes his way over to the pillar and eyes it for a few moments. He draws one of his arms back with a rotating of his waist and shoulders then SLAM. He can hear what is akin to breaking glass, but his ears are ringing, and his vision is blurred. As the world around him comes into focus he can see shards on the ground, but when he turns his attention to where he struck the pillar, there are splatters of blood slowly racing down the painted grey pillar. He finally begins to understand what he sees and begins to wail.
His scream was like that of a visceral terror mixed with unfathomable pain, his world began to spin, and he could see the pillar race away from view as his gaze met the ceiling then... THUNK CRASH.
......
Sirens wail outside of an apartment building on 21st street south. A young man had been heard screaming bloody murder claimed several neighbors who had called in around the same time. Paramedics and police crowd the sidewalk entrance as they discuss what they’ve seen amongst themselves. A welfare check had been called, neighbors assumed there mustve been a domestic violence situation, but this man was a newcomer to this building, and no one had seen comings and goings from the apartment besides Jack himself.
The police and team of EMTs make their way up to the 3rd floor and the door was unlocked. They call him through the door “Mr. Jackson Holkhalter? We are with the Seattle Police department please open up!” The answer is silence as they open the door and make their way in. The scene before them is of gore and glass. “Ah shit.... another one of these.”
In the middle of the floor lay only the torso of Jackson Holkhalter and his lower half has been shattered into fragmented bloody pieces, which a pool of dark oxygenated blood only just coagulating is gathered around, staining the vinyl wood flooring as if a macabre Jackson Pollock work. He looked almost peaceful, like a sleeping doll has been laid onto the floor.
“This has been the 3rd reported case of this new disease this week, this is quickly turning into an epidemic” Says one paramedic to the other as they work to gather the shards on the dead man from the floor.
“What are they calling it now, Porcelain doll syndrome or something?” Asks the officer taking photos of the scene. “I believe that's what most people are calling it anyway, Hits suddenly without warning and can kill in hours without medical intervention”
The cop sighs, noting the uneaten hot pocket and apex lobby on the tv screen. Another young man, taken in his prime.
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