The purple-and-red ooze slapped the outside of the bin with loud, sickening splats. It slowly dripped down the sides, swallowing the bin, and merged with the ooze on the floor. The bin was not actually gone. I could see the small shape. The slime did not devour it, thank gosh. If it could, what was stopping it from engulfing the entire bathroom? And me?

I was officially disturbed. "That does it. I am finished. I am out of here. No way am I letting Dad...ugh!" I could not turn to the doorway. I could not hurry out from the restroom. I could not move away from the gooey bin or the sticky mirror - or my slime clearly having a mind of its own. I could move my body - except my legs. "What the...?" I stared at my legs. It took me a couple seconds to register why my legs were not budging. "My gosh!"

Wrapped around them was slime! It seemed like that it was quickly crawling up my legs. My eyes bulged out of their sockets. It was. It was crawling up my legs! It was not halting at my stomach. Not when I pleaded it to let my legs go. Let me go. I would end up just like the can. Buried under piles and piles of my smelly slime. This is what it wanted to do. Cover every part of my body until I was nothing more than a corpse. I would be unable to breathe if it successfully covered my head. My face.

"Sure wish that I brought a sharp knife," I mumbled in a shaky voice, trying to wipe the slime off my legs, only for it to get on my hands - and begin spreading up both arms. "Crub! No! No! Get off! Get off me!"

I had only one idea. I prayed that it would work. It had to work. Or the slime would take me. I would die in my bathroom. I could not give into the slippery ooze. I had to fight for my life. If I had to be stuck in the restroom, I was glad that I was near the sink. Otherwise, my plan could not play out.

My slime was crawling up my elbows. I placed them on the edge of my tiny sink and clenched my fists. My fists were facing me. I pressed my arms against the side as I slowly moved them down, expecting the living slime to slide onto the sink. Some let go of my skin and dripped down said sink, but none of it disappeared in the metal drain. With my panic rising, I watched the slime grow.

"I must hurry," I said. "Oh, where is Dad?"

I turned my arms around and repeated the action. Yes! More slime slid into said sink. I scraped my hands and arms against the side of the sink until they were totally clean. Not a single drop of slime on my arms or hands. I gazed back at my trapped legs - and could not hold in my ear-piercing shriek. I have never screamed so loud. But what else could I do?

The slime was up to my chest!

Tears rolled down my cheeks. "No, no! Dad! Dad!"

I grabbed a spray bottle out from underneath the sink. Small pieces of slime occupied it. I flicked them off and used the top of the tall bottle to try prying the big slime off me. I was successful - until the slime attached itself to it and claimed it in less than five seconds. I dropped the bottle before that out-of-control slime could attach to my fingers. The bottle did not fall on the floor. It fell in the slime with a soft squuuiiish and sank. How deep was the slime?

I uttered another bloodcurdling scream. The slime was now up to my neck and creeping down both arms. I did not stop shrieking. I was hoping that my parents could hear me. They did not overhear my first shriek because they never came to my aid. I closed my eyes and began tearing off the dumb slime. I threw the jello-like pieces into the sink. Teared and threw. Teared and threw. But the ooze was faster. It covered the vacant spots. I felt it crawling on the back of my head. My hands were taken - and soon, my head would join.

Is this how it ends? Is this how I will die? Murdered by my own slime? I can picture Mom and Dad finding my cold corpse lying in this bathroom. Will they be able to dig it out - without the slime swallowing them?

Well...at least that I accomplished one of my few goals. I created living slime. Even scientists could not do this. I left behind a legacy. But not a great one. The growing slime would not be content with me, the home, and the woods. It would slither its way into town and smack its bubbly body on everything - and everyone - in its path. Streets. Houses. Shops and the restaurant. School. The townsfolk. Forlot would no longer be a luxurious town. It would become an enormous pool. A slime pool. Nah. A death pool. Once the slime has a hold on you - or you throw yourself in it - it will add you to its collection.

Do not end up like me. Do not let your corpse be a part of the evil ooze. Fight with all your might. Let it realize how unworthy you are of the collection. Just maybe...it will spit you out. You will be covered in the ooze, but at least that your corpse will not be in it like mine.

Why did I not fight harder? Why did I give in so easily? Why did I not heed Dad's warning? Why did I step foot in here? No time for regret.

"Serenity?"

"Huh? Dad? Help!"

"Help you with what? The pipes?"