Fly

The night was humid; with the window open there wasn't much of a breeze blowing through the little apartment. Max walked over to the fan that was blowing and shut it off. 

Max stood in the room, arms akimbo. He had just finished working out and he was covered and sweat and stink. As one black fly landed on him, he glanced at it and nodded. He waited and then a few more came and landed on his body.

Max didn't move at all. He stood statuesque as more and more flies buzzed about his apartment, attracted by the scent.

He was covered in thousands upon thousands of black flies, crawling over his body like maggots on a piece of meat. He stood there and could feel them all, millions of tiny feet crawling over his body. 

His breathing was slow and controlled and his movement was practically non-existent. He was covered with a living blanket of insects, and he felt more in control.  

We need you.

It sounded like thousands upon thousands of tiny voices crying out. And it startled Max for a few seconds; was he finally over that edge? 

You need us.

The cellphone chimed. And when he moved, all the insects took flight, leaving an empty space. There was no sign of Max anywhere, as if he had become part of the insects that covered him.

The cellphone chimed again.

Max's eyes flickered open. He was laying on his bed and he reached for the phone.