Saturated

The man in white could have saved himself from such a costly loss had he only noticed the small piece of wood that would allow his enemy to infiltrate his home. 

He should have been alerted when he opened the door to his bedroom. He could have seen the block laying there.

He should have been alerted when he heard a thump as the block hit the door  when it swung closed.

He should have been alerted when he was falling asleep and a sliver of light slipped through the crack of the slightly open door.

But alas, he was not. 

The man in yellow awoke groggily from his slumber to discover that he had sweated a significant amount. He could feel his clothes sticking to his body as he rolled around in the bed and attempted to bring himself to become aware of his surroundings. Unfortunately, as he did so, he felt more and more sure that something was not right. There was just something hanging in the air. 

The man in white fell quickly asleep when he hit the bed, still unaware that his door had been slightly propped open.

If only he had awoken to the sound of the footsteps.

If only he had awoken to the sound of the door creaking open.

If only he had awoken to the sound of a machine turning on.

But alas, he did not. 

The man in yellow looked to both sides without putting on his glasses. At first it did not make any sense. The humidity in the room was incredible; it was as if he had been transported into a sauna during the night. He could barely breathe, and the air felt like water as he gasped to bring it into his lungs. Standing up in the dense, hot room, he stumbled to the door, unable to see what was all around him. 

The man in white dreamt vividly that night. His wild life with his wild friends seemed to melt away as he drifted away into a deep rest. 

If only the slight vibration of the floor had been enough to rouse him. 

If only the changing atmosphere around him had been enough to wake him up. 

If only the scent and the feeling that was creeping up on the room had alarmed him of the situation.

Alas, they did not. 

Getting to the door and whipping it open, the man in yellow gasped for breath as he keeled over. He quickly pulled his glasses out of his pocket and surveyed the space around him. The situation suddenly became fairly clear. He looked to his feet and, seeing the whirring machine in action, gasped before quickly turning it off. 

The man in white could have inadvertently avoided the drastic situation had he made a few choices differently in the hours leading up to the event. 

If only he had stayed in the night before instead of going out on a binge. 

If only he had kept to himself instead of inciting a need for vindication in his drunkenness by publicly shaming his future intruder. 

If only he had opted to leave his laundry in the building’s basement instead of bringing all of his clothes back up to his room.

Alas, he had not. 

He looked around at his belongings. Tarnished. Ruined. As good as gone. He who had broken into his castle had done so after much careful planning. he had attempted to put the intruder’s king in check, and instead had been checkmated himself. And he knew exactly who his enemy was. 

The man in white did not know what was coming. He never could have imagined that his adversaries were as sick as they soon would be clear to be. What a shame that he had not been aware of the true gravity of the situation. If only he had realized who he was dealing with. 

Then perhaps he would have ensured that the door was closed and locked. 

Then perhaps his best friend and greatest rival would not have gotten to his humidifier. 

Then perhaps he would not become the man in yellow.

Then perhaps he, along with all of his belongings, would not be saturated.