The Snap

11:00am July 12th, 2005 Los Angeles, California:

Katie picked the rug up off the shelf. Blue. That was a good color. But would it go with her lamps? Decisions, decisions. She shook the rug out and threw it down on the floor of the store. She contemplated for a minute, trying to imagine the rug in her living room. She slipped out of her sandals and walked across it. Nope. Too rough, it would never do. She slipped her sandals back on and began to walk away.
“Are you going to just leave that there?” came a voice from behind her.
“What?” Katie answered incredulously as she turned around.
“Are you going to leave that rug on the ground where you dropped it?” asked a middle-aged man in an apron. Have a stupendous day! read the button next to his nametag.
“Hey dude, you’re wearing the apron, not me. You get paid to pick it up.” Katie turned around and began to walk away, satisfied that she had put him in his place.
“Okay.” Carl mumbled as his hand slid into the pocket of his apron. His fingers wrapped around a bright orange OSHA approved box cutter, it felt like it was built for his hand. He lifted the day glow instrument from the pocket and his thumb pulled the safety latch back. He quickly closed the space between himself and the young lady who had just crossed some unforeseen DMZ in his psyche.

Katie was unaware of Carl as he moved in on her. She was looking at wicker baskets, wondering where she could put them in her bedroom, as he raised the box cutter and brought it down onto the back of her neck. She felt the impact, but was more confused by her necklace falling down the front of her t-shirt. Before her mind could disseminate what was happening, Carl’s hand came back, the side of his fist striking her in the back of the head, driving her face into the edge of the wooden shelf in front of her. The blow broke her nose; the pain and shock buckled her knees and dropped her to the ground in a heap. Katie tried to scream but before she could open her mouth, the heal of Carl’s foot crashed across her face, dislocating her jaw.
Her head bounced off the ground and she rolled onto her back, dazed and whimpering, she could not fully comprehend the blur of rage in a green polyester apron that knelt down over her. Carl grabbed her hair and smashed the back of her head onto the concrete floor. He brought the blade of the box cutter down onto her face, next to her ear, and began to cut towards her throat with all his strength. As he crossed the jugular vein, blood rushed out, spraying Carl across the face and apron, but he was unaffected. Katie tried to struggle, but Carl was kneeling on her arms. He pulled out the blade, turned Katie’s head and began to cut on the other side. The pain of the blade was enough to make her blackout.

Satisfied that he had taught her a lesson about manners, Carl climbed off of Katie’s motionless body. He put the bloody box cutter back into the pocket of his apron, leaned down, grabbed Katie’s hair and began to drag her towards the cash registers at the front of the store. As he rounded the corner a group of women who were browsing in the pillow department, saw the sight of a blood soaked man dragging the blood soaked body of a young woman along the floor. In unison they screamed and ran away.
Carl kept moving as more people noticed, understood, screamed and ran. He reached the registers, dropped Katie’s head and looked at a co-worker who was frozen with fear and confusion.
“I’m going to take a break,” Carl smiled and walked out of the store. He sat down on a large concrete flower planter at the edge of the parking lot, leaned his head back and began to enjoy the warmth of the sun on his blood soaked face.

As far as anyone can tell, that was the incident that started The Snap. Over the next 72 hours people all around the world would simply stop tolerating behavior that had become commonplace in human society. The body count would be enormous.