Years, and years ago I lived with my brother and dad in an apartment. We were up above a particularly dirty group of people who lived below us, with like 20 people in the 2 bedroom apartment from the looks of things. So the whole building ended up getting hit with roaches, and we moved out that year.
We came home one night and walked through the front door, and as soon as we turned on the lights, we saw what appeared to be hundreds of roaches all over the kitchen floor running around. I was paralyzed with fear and unable to move. My little brother leapt into action like I'd never seen in my life and grabbed a fly swatter from seemingly out of nowhere for each hand and began furiously dealing death at a pace unimaginable. He was a blur, but every time his hands moved, something died that night. By the time I could gather my senses and react, a mass grave lay before me of such a scale that it defies description. Everyone here likes to believe they have the soul of a master exterminator inside them, but the truth is you really never know if you have what it takes until you have to face those kinds of overwhelming odds. Some people have latent genetic memory of the battle between species that put humans at the top of the food chain, and can tap into that survival instinct without thinking.
