I am not the author of this pasta in any way and I am not absolutely trying to be credited for it.
He might have started to spend a little more time in the bathroom, ever since he bought his smartphone. There he sat, pajama pants down, looking through his subscription box on YouTube.
Attending to one's physiological needs is a must in life, which probably lessened the burden of procrastination on his mind. It was the middle of the night, and drowsiness made him zone out more than usual, while traversing the ocean of recommended videos. He knew he wouldn't remember the details of any videos he watched in this state, but the company of sound pleased him, as the chilliness of silence was an unwelcome sensation.
The first thing he noticed was that his feet were starting to feel numb. Now, besides using a smartphone, he had no other strange habits while regulating his intestinal flow, so he certainly was not defecating while cross-legged. He had also never experienced any circulatory issues. This would have been ignored had the numbness not started to spread. It started with his extremities, but now he thought he could feel it even on his face.
Well, he had drunk way too many Monster cans that night, so he was probably experiencing slight caffeine overdose or something like that. Other, certainly more worrying thoughts came to mind. "What if I am having a stroke?" He considered, as his brain vainly worried about how humiliating it would be to be found by any emergency personnel, while on his bathroom floor, wearing an outgrown pajama and socks with holes. The smartphone slipped from his hand, and fell face down on the floor.
"Shit!" Murphy's Law turned the bastard face down every time it fell, what was the point of having a cover, if he only ever fell when it was open? His worries about his possible caffeine-induced stroke were overshadowed by his concerns over the screen of his expensive smartphone.
He leaned forward to catch it, only to be taken by surprise, as his legs held no strength at all. He was now falling forward in an awkward position. There he lay: unnerved, unmoving and un-wiped. Lying sideways, over his left arm and hunched over, he realized how paralyzed he felt. He was not sure he could get himself back up.
His head was facing forward, toward the full-body mirror. He could now see the macabre spectacle taking place on his ass. Leech-like, fist-sized creatures were stuck to his butt cheeks, his upper thighs and who knows where else. The enormous creatures, of a greenish black hue, were frolicking amidst blood and feces, hungrily sucking away.
He tried his utmost to move, but could only throw backwards his right arm. Mustering as much strength as he could, he slammed it against the creatures, achieving little results. Flinging the arm up, he got momentum to slam it back down, squashing one of the smaller things. It burst, spurting blood all around. He tried to do it again, but didn’t have the strength to smash many more.
From the toilet, following a trail of blood, more of those beasts were crawling. They crawled slowly, but he could do little more than move his eyes at this point, so their lack of speed didn’t mean much at all. He stood witness as they crawled further and further, claiming more and more of his body as their feeding ground. He was still conscious when they started crawling up his neck. A couple crawled into his mouth, while others attacked his eyes. His last sight was of their suckers, circular and laced with sharp teeth-like protrusions.