Distorted — Shape

But this morning, the distortion had claimed his own flesh. He reached up and touched his cheek. His skin felt normal, smooth and familiar under his fingertips, yet the glass insisted that his face was melting toward his shoulder. 🌀 The Creeping Contortion

Elias tried to call for help, but the keypad on his phone was a jumbled mess of trapezoids and squished ovals. He couldn’t tell where the numbers began or ended. He was trapped in a funhouse mirror that had swallowed reality whole. 🚪 The Vanishing Point distorted shape

Desperate, Elias ran to his front door, needing to know if this nightmare was contained to his mind or if the universe was actively unraveling. He grabbed the handle, but it slipped through his fingers; the brass was no longer solid, but a fluid, twisting loop. But this morning, the distortion had claimed his own flesh

By noon, the world outside his apartment had succumbed to the same bizarre physics. Short sentences became difficult to form in his mind as the visual noise grew louder. buckled upward in smooth, silent waves. The streetlamps drooped like weeping willows. 🌀 The Creeping Contortion Elias tried to call