Chapter 1 — The Morning Everything Changed (Part 3)
von The Metamorphosis · 2026-04-05
Gregor was still lying there, his thoughts racing in circles, when—
The clock struck.
A sharp, clear sound.
Quarter to seven.
The sound snapped through the room like a warning.
Gregor tensed.
“I still haven’t gotten out of bed…”
He knew.
He knew this was the moment where things would start going wrong.
And then—
A knock.
Soft.
Careful.
Right at the door near his head.
“Gregor?”
His mother’s voice.
Gentle.
But worried.
“It’s quarter to seven. Didn’t you have somewhere to go?”
Gregor froze.
For a moment—
He didn’t answer.
Then instinct took over.
“Yes… Mother… yes… thank you… I’m getting up now…”
The words came out slowly.
Carefully.
But—
Something was wrong.
The moment he heard his own voice—
Gregor felt it.
It wasn’t his voice anymore.
It sounded strained.
Distorted.
As if it came from somewhere deep inside him.
Mixed with it was a strange, uncontrollable squeaking.
The words were there—
But they weren’t clean.
Not clear.
Each syllable seemed to echo strangely, breaking apart before it fully reached the air.
Gregor hesitated.
Did she notice?
Did she hear it?
There was no way to tell.
The wooden door separated them.
It muffled everything.
And—
Thankfully—
It seemed to be enough.
His mother paused.
Then—
Footsteps.
Slow.
Relieved.
She walked away.
She believed him.
For now.
Gregor exhaled quietly.
But the moment didn’t last.
Because—
The others had heard.
His voice.
That strange, unnatural sound.
And now—
They were paying attention.
Another knock.
This time—
Different.
Heavier.
More direct.
“Gregor. Gregor.”
His father.
Firm.
Controlled.
“What’s wrong?”
Gregor didn’t answer immediately.
Before he could—
Another voice.
From the other side.
Soft.
Almost pleading.
“Gregor?”
His sister.
“Are you not well? Do you need anything?”
The concern in her voice was unmistakable.
It hit him harder than he expected.
Gregor forced himself to respond.
“To both of them.”
“I’m ready… now.”
He spoke carefully.
Deliberately.
Slowing down each word.
Separating them.
Trying to smooth out the strange distortion in his voice.
Trying to sound normal.
Trying to sound human.
It wasn’t easy.
But he managed.
Just enough.
There was a pause.
Then—
His father stepped away.
Returning to breakfast.
Gregor could hear it.
The faint clink of dishes.
The movement of a chair.
But his sister—
She didn’t leave.
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
Close to the door.
“Gregor… please open the door.”
There was something fragile in her tone.
Almost desperate.
Gregor closed his eyes.
He didn’t move.
Opening the door—
That was the one thing he absolutely could not do.
Not like this.
Not now.
Not when he didn’t even understand what he had become.
Instead—
A different thought surfaced.
Unexpected.
Cold.
Practical.
He felt… relieved.
Relieved that the doors were locked.
All of them.
It was a habit he had developed during his travels.
Locking every door at night.
Even when he was home.
And now—
For the first time—
That habit protected him.
Protected them.
Gregor remained still.
Breathing slowly.
Thinking.
“The first thing I need to do…”
He began organizing his thoughts.
Step by step.
“I need to get up.”
Without interruption.
Without panic.
“I need to get dressed.”
And then—
“Breakfast.”
That mattered.
More than anything else in that moment.
Because everything—
Everything—
Depended on him appearing normal.
Only after that—
Would he decide what to do next.
Because right now—
Lying here—
Thinking like this—
Was getting him nowhere.
Gregor remembered something.
He had felt pain in bed before.
Occasionally.
A slight discomfort.
From lying awkwardly.
But every time—
It had turned out to be nothing.
Just imagination.
He clung to that thought.
“This could be the same.”
It had to be.
It had to be.
“…This is just the beginning of an illness.”
A cold.
Yes.
That made sense.
Traveling salesmen got sick all the time.
Bad food.
Irregular sleep.
Constant stress.
“It’s nothing unusual.”
Gregor held onto that explanation.
Tightly.
Desperately.
He needed it.
Because without it—
Nothing made sense.