john had recently been having many problems at work. he came home from work tired & in a daze, a stupor per se, & his wife, jane, would more often than not have to lead him up to bed or to the couch for immediate rest. whenever she called the ROBLOX hq to ask about why her husband always seemed so fatigued after work, the facility seemed to be confused as well, as according to them, they’d been allowing john to slack off work due to how tired he was getting. it baffled jane. she put down the receiver after a moment’s reluctance, before sighing & going upstairs to join john in bed for the night. she hadn’t inquired on the matter any further. after all, there seemed to be no use coming out of investigating it. whenever she asked john about his other symptoms, john said he had none. whenever she asked about what he thought may be bringing this fatigue-strike on, john had simply shrugged the answer off before stifling yet another yawn.

“…let’s get you back up to bed, dear. don’t want you collapsing again at work like today.”

ah, yes—the collapse. john had collapsed at work on the 14th of march, right in the middle of working hours. no one had expected it, no one least than john, especially since he’d just gotten off his lunch break, a time he often spent napping now to regain energy that slipped right through his fingers. he had fallen unconscious & nearly cracked his head on the tiled floor, narrowly escaping a hospital intervention. john had been permitted an early leave from work after his collapse, & when he arrived back home, he seemed extraordinarily clingy with jane that afternoon. she hadn’t objected, but it did worry her farther.

this man knows that something’s wrong with him. he knows it’s going to wreak havoc upon him soon.

& boy was she right.

the next day, march 15, john returned home from work with his usual stagger. jane was cooking in the kitchen, her back turned to the entrance hallway. as she stirred the soup in the pot, she heard john enter the house by the jingle of his keys & the stumble of his feet. it had become routine by now, almost. “dinner’s almost ready, john,” jane called out to him, not averting her gaze from the bubbling stew as she spoke. “take a seat at the table, honey. i’ll bring it out in a minute.”

john didn’t take a seat. from what jane could understand on hearing alone, john dumped his jacket on the hallway floor before stumbling over to the kitchen. he seemed to be dragging something particularly heavy behind him, something which he seemed to be dragging across the floorboards, even splintering & splitting some. he seemed to be approaching jane, his breathing oddly heavy & raspy now, unusual even for the fatigued man.