DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fight Club or any of its characters. I do not own the cover image.


That's all my life has been about- invasion.

Consumerism invaded your life. Marla invaded my only methods of sleep therapy. Women invaded our lives. And now Tyler is beginning to invade your mind. I look him in the eye and, as much as I admire him, God, do I envy him to the point where it sometimes angers me. I am Jack's boiling blood. At a first glance, there's nothing anyone could want of his. It's not his derelict excuse for a house, let alone a home, or his minimalist lifestyle, of course. He may not own many things that I desire, but he does own one thing-one thing even more desirable than anything from a catalogue- You don't mean that . It's that I own the freedom you could only dream of.

You're caged in by all your IKEA crap, and it's all your fault. And you're gonna have a hard time freeing yourself. Look at me- I can throw out my arms and embrace this freedom. You could do the same- if it didn't risk you knocking over those precious little vases of artificial plants taking up a ton of unnecessary space. Everything about you is unnecessary space.

I pictured my condo- all of those little pieces of furniture and that wonderful yin-yang table and the dishes that felt like they defined me perfectly- Hell, it all defined me perfectly- and then I realised that I was right; I'd created my own cage. I'd thrown myself into an unending vicious circle of purchase after purchase after purchase after purchase after purchase after purchase after purchase after purchase… You see where you're going wrong here?

And now I'd figured out that we were invading the entire town. Project Mayhem was everywhere now, invading the city, and I could almost hear the ticking bombs resonating in my mind. Or maybe you are that ticking time bomb. Tick…Tick…Tick…It's almost over now, isn't it? It's almost over now, isn't it?

I fondly remembered my first fight with him. Your first fight with Tyler Durden. I remembered when all of my troubles burst out with the blood that poured from his face. My beautiful catharsis. Fight Club proved to be more remedial than any support group could ever be, without the interference of that little bitch Marla. And yet my only chance to escape the invasions of my life only led to another. Marla invades my cave. Our own personal space in your mind and she's taking over.

And now I am seconds away from the end of my life. But, even in the end of my life, it seems I am not free from invasion.

And now the cold metal of my gun invades your mouth, and I have finally invaded your mind.

And all your death will be about is invasion.

Author Note: Thank you for reading! This was actually hard to write, constantly switching POVs and even coming up with something to write. I haven't written any fanfic for a while so I decided this would be an interesting one to write something about. I hope you enjoyed it, and if not, you have my apologies.