His name was Bob. Bob loved Bob. Bob wanted everyone else to love him. Bob tried everything in his power to make sure everyone loved him. He was a car enthusiast in front of a car enthusiast, a sports fan in front of a sports fan, and a good listener in front of someone chatty.
Now, everyone was dead. All the work he had put into making sure he was not alone was for nothing.
Bob had survived. He didn't notice the fact that he had changed at first. But during the following weeks, he noticed some changes in his body. A cute little guy appeared between his lowest left rib and his tummy. It was a growth with his face on it. He would tickle its little chin and watch it laugh with that squeaky voice. The squeaky voice would amuse him to no end.
He would walk around the malls, and when he found something he liked, he would lift his shirt and show it to the little fella.
"Eeek!"
If the growth squealed with joy at the sight of the thing, he would put it in the car. He wanted to please the growth.
He has been eating a lot. He was nurturing his beloved growth, after all. It had completely formed a head. The head was having a hard time talking, but it was talking. Bob was still connected to the head through nerves, and the head was a copy of him. The head loved him, and he loved the head.
He ran away in fear when a building nearby collapsed. His head friend was as terrified as him. He could barely escape the blazing city. He leaned down and gave the head a little kiss to console him. The head was immediately consoled by the sudden show of affection. The head was cute.
For the next couple of weeks, the growth of the head stagnated. That was because Bob was unable to find as much food as before. Gone are the days when he could eat three pizzas in one sitting. Most of the frozen pizzas had been burned along with the city.
He had barely seen anyone since the catastrophe happened. He hung out with the people he met, but they were reluctant to stay with him once they understood how intimate he was with the head protruding from his belly. That didn't bother Bob that much. He was never alone. He had the head.
Soon enough, A torso was protruding from his torso. The growth had become a fully articulated copy of himself.
"Hey, Bob."
"Hey, Bob."
"Looking good today."
"You too."
"You know I love you, right?"
"I love you too, and I want you to know that I'm always here for you."
"This is all I ever wanted."
"Me too."
Bob and the Bob that was protruding from Bob hugged and cried. Since both of them were able to eat and breathe, the rate at which the protruding Bob has been growing has increased. He ate and ate. Eventually, the protruding Bob was outside of the original Bob's body.
"Hey handsome," Bob said softly.
"Hey handsome," Bob answered.
"I found some frozen meat in the supermarket today." Bob bit his lip.
"We can eat together. Food is always tastier when I eat it with you," Bob answered. Hearing that, Bob blushed. Bob kissed Bob on the cheek.
They both lifted their shirts to reveal the food to the little Bobs sticking out from their lower ribs. The little Bobs squealed with joy. They were going to get nourished with these tasty yum-yums. Not every little bob grew the same. One of these new Bobs had created its arms first. It loved to touch things. In exchange, it had no eyes.
Bob always wanted to have a big family. The good thing about a family was that they were trapped with you. They had to love you. A family was not like all those assholes who abandoned him. A family would always be there for him.
He was desperate to make these new Bobs happy. In turn, these Bobs were desperate to please him. This was truly heaven for Bob. It was heaven for all Bobs.
They were safe. They would be safer when they had more Bobs.
At night, Bobs would spoon each other. Bob was happy. He was happier than he had ever been before the catastrophe.
On one of these happy days, a weird thing happened. The number of rabbits and boars he had been encountering had increased. Within a year, one became five, five became ten, and ten became fifteen.
This was both terrible and great for Bobs. They were able to dine on rabbit and boar meat every day. Such a diet helped Bobs multiply faster. It, however, depleted the flora faster, resulting in Bob having a somewhat skewed diet predicated on red meat and little to no greens. The number of herbivores increased exponentially. The number of Bobs was unable to keep up with it.
By the eight-year mark, the number of herbivores had declined sharply. They all starved to death. The flora was almost done, and the fauna was now gone too. The only meat that was left was Bob's meat. With that, Bob's love for other Bobs has been tested by hunger. Love failed, and carnage ensued. Bob killed Bob, and Bob ate Bob. Bobs that had aggressive augmentations had eaten the ones who did not.
Lucky Bobs escaped, and those who weren't lucky became soup. Every bit of canned food has been devoured in the past year by the staggering number of Bob's. The civilization itself has been stripped clean by the horde of Bobs.
The original Bob has found himself in a pile of bones. Bob had betrayed Bob and had a vendetta against Bob from now on. Whenever he saw Bob, he felt like he could drown Bob in a spoonful of water. Bob just wanted to be loved. Instead, Bob was hated. How dare Bob hate Bob? Who does Bob think he is? Didn't he know Bob was a great guy? Bob showed how lowly he was by besmirching Bob's good name.
Bob was a good person, and he deserved love. Right? Right? It was the unfortunate circumstances that led up to this, right? Bob was feeling his world crumble down on him. Like every other Bob was. The sight of Bob behaving terribly attacked Bob's ego. He can never tell himself that he is an angelic human being anymore. It humiliated him. It insulted him. Reality has a tendency to do that to the wicked.
Within twenty years, Bob and the environment have reached equilibrium. Bob would walk a kilometer in a certain direction and look around. If he didn't see any marks left by a bob, he would double back and walk a kilometer in a different direction.
After understanding that the square kilometer he was in wasn't occupied by another Bob, he would reproduce twice and stop. That way, the population of Bobs was kept in line by the scarcity of land. By that time, however, Bob was designated as a monster by the other humans. They would kill on sight if they could. And if they succeeded, eventually the marks left by the previous Bob would fade, and the kilometer square would be available to another Bob.
Years before, in the Waha logistics office building where Bob was working as a laborer:
"Boss, what about this particular gene? It says that it increases the likelihood of people responding to non-monetary incentive structures."
Boss rolled his ice cube in his whiskey and smiled.
"Put it in. We can sing their praise for free and pay them far less money."
The assistant was a bit taken aback by the sudden response.
"Sir, isn't this a bit callous? They will become narcissists. They will never be happy by themselves again. That will be a terrible personal tragedy for everyone involved."
The boss rolled his eyes.
"This is why I'm sitting here and you are standing over there. Wake up. This is how the real world works. You do what you have to do, and if you fail to do it, others will do it and wizz past you in life."
The boss got up and towered over the assistant.
"I don't appreciate the way you are standing up to me. I need you to say yes when I tell you something. Do you understand? Otherwise, how will all this work, huh? We are running a gigacorp here. It's not a place to get hung up on childish notions like what you just said."
The boss poured his whiskey over the assistant's head. The ice cubes slid out of the glass and hit the assistant's head before rolling on the carpet floor.
The assistant picked up the ice and glasses and said,
"Sorry."
He then left the room. The boss grumbled a little. His day was ruined.
During the calamity, both of them would die in their respective houses. Their corpses would be disrespected by gangs of Bobs afterward.
The effects of what these Bobs done wouldn't reach the northern hemisphere, where Dwax lived, until far later.