The fan was still actually turned on--it had stopped running when the plug was so rudely pulled from its outlet the night before--so when Mel pushed the plug into the wall socket, electricity immediately coursed through the fan's ancient wiring. There was a sudden, sharp pop as the dried blood on the end of both prongs was vaporized as electricity passed through them and Mel jerked his hand back from the plug in surprise. He watched in confusion and fascination as thin tendrils of smoke rose slowly from the socket. The faint stink of burned flesh was evident in the small room for a moment as Mel glared down at the fan. He nearly reached over to unplug this thing that was rapidly becoming his worst nightmare, but decided to wait and see if it would work properly, after all.

The blades began their slow revolutions, picking up speed until he could feel the warm breeze caressing his bare stomach and chest. The fan appeared to be working with a minimum of difficulty, although the broken section of wire cage only seemed to increase the nerve racking rattle as the blades turned. Also, the blade spindle appeared slightly bent from when the fan suffered its meeting with the wall last night, which seemed to cause a slightly uneven revolution of the blades. This new deformity made the fan wobble slightly as it oscillated back and forth. At least it still worked, Mel thought as he moved to turn on the shower.

A cold shower in the morning was the only thing that made getting up to face another hot, miserable day worthwhile and as the water cascaded over him, Mel was able to relax, just a bit. When he finished washing his hair, he noticed that he could now hear the rattle of the fan even over the noise of the shower. Finally and reluctantly turning off the water, Mel took a towel from where it was draped over the shower door and put it over his head, rubbing his hair briskly as he pushed the door open with his shoulder and stepped out of the stall.

He knew something was not quite right as soon as he felt a warm breeze against his wet leg, but by the time an alarm message had reached his brain, he had already inserted the toes of his right foot directly into the madly whirring blades of the fan.

Everything happened very quickly after that and by the time Mel reacted to the unexpected pain and pulled his foot away, the metal blades of the fan had managed to reduce three of his toes to shredded, bloody stumps. The effort of jerking his leg back caused him to lose his balance and with the towel still covering his head and screaming in surprise and pain, he fell heavily against and then through the glass shower door. As he went down, glass from the shattered door sliced into his arm and shoulder.

Falling to the floor amid a cascade of broken glass and spurting blood, the bath mat slipped out from under him, which hit and knocked over the fan where it had been sitting on the floor near the shower. His right arm bleeding and useless, Mel finally managed to rip the towel from his head with his left hand. He still hadn't fully realized what had happened to him and the first thing he saw was the fan, lying on its side, the momentum of the spinning blades seemingly making it creep across the floor, straight at him.

Yelling for help, he kicked out at the advancing fan and noticed for the first time the mangled remnants of the toes on his right foot. Seeing that bloody mess, as well as the blood running down his arm from numerous lacerations, Mel screamed in panic and tried to throw the wet towel at the fan. He missed the metal beast entirely and the fan kept creeping jerkily forward.