BE AFRAID. IT'S POST 101

Welcome to Post 101. As this is the 101st post of this blog, I thought I'd celebrate with a story that tells you about my Room 101:

I'm standing in cell, room 101.
The room contains thousands of tiny flesh-coloured creatures, the size of small beatles, clinging to the walls.
They cover the surface, like bees in a beehive, on top of each other, making the walls heave to and fro.
The floor is scattered completely with broken glass, and I'm standing in the middle of it, in the centre of the room.
The only place where there isn't broken glass is beneath my feet, so i can't move.
The tiny creatures begin to crawl down from the walls, over, between and around the glass, and reach my feet in a hungry swarm.
They start to eat me.
Not chewing, but razor sharp jaws clip through skin and bone, like pirahnas. But the odd thing is that even though after a few minutes they have eat my feet, I'm still standing, and as they work their way up my legs I start to understand what's happening.
Where they eat me, they replace my flesh and bone with their own bodies, reforming my feet and legs in their original shape, while i scream in agony above them.
More and more of them work their way up through my guts and then I stop screaming as they finally eat my lungs, heart, neck and head.
And then all that's left of me looks almost like a wax statue of me, but its moving, as the creatures crawl around in the space which once held my body.
Then the statue disintergrates from the top to the botoom back down back across the floor.
The the creatures crawl back over the glass, fat with my flesh, and assume their place back on the wall.
In the room, the floor can now been seen, just partly, in the shape of two glass-less footprints in the centre.
The walls are silent.

Nice eh? Either that or five minutes stuck in a room having to listen to that Fucking Liar Jeffrey Archer.
Sleep well.