As the seething mass collapses into a flurry of tiny, skittering forms, you realize that you aren't looking at a single latex monster, but rather an entire legion of them. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of small multicolored insects that had just seconds before formed a small mountain now crawl in every direction, a rainbow wave flowing out towards you. The immediate reaction, obviously, is to flee.
With an army of insects at your heels, their many legs collecting to create a terrible cacophony of clicking as innumerable steps fall on the pavement beneath them, you hurry to escape the seemingly endless forest that surrounds you. Even with their small size, the bugs have an almost supernatural speed, managing to keep pace with you even as you run with the greatest haste you can muster. Eventually you reach the streets and the flood pours in all directions, the flow moving towards you slowing just enough for you to start outrunning it but still moving unnaturally quickly. You do what you can to make your way to your home, eventually arriving perhaps a minute ahead of the tiny creatures, and take advantage of what little time you have before their arrival to block off any entrances you can think of as well as possible, hoping that it will be enough to halt their march into your abode.
Trapped inside and unwilling to even approach the ground windows for fear of sudden attack, you rush to the upper floor and peer outside. At first, you see nothing but that oncoming wave in the distance, the numbers of the tiny creatures within it multiplying at an incredible rate as it tramples everything in sight, but then you start to hear them: the screams, a terrified chorus of those who fail to escape the insects. Your mind reels at the mere thought of what might be happening to them, but then you see others who'd heard the screams leaving their houses to investigate, and realize that you'd see what had happened soon enough. Every fiber of your being demands that you turn away, and yet something deep inside you, some macabre curiosity of what may be your inevitable fate, forces you to gaze on as the army reaches the masses. The first people, standing unaware of what it is that approaches, are trampled by the stampede, immediately knocked down and covered by the bugs, which seem to blend together until they form a seamless coating over the shrieking innocents, the coating wriggling and coalescing, every individual insect binding together with its kin to cover their entire bodies, to shape them. The people struggle against the latex that has so tightly enveloped them, matching their form rather than shaping a cocoon, leaving them to claw at their covered faces with softened hands as those very faces stretch out, as though to fill an invisible mold, one that finds itself halfway between that of a beast and that of a man. Some soon start to hunch over, to snarl and howl, the animals their forms have taken apparently corrupting not only their bodies but their minds; others seem to remain completely human in conscious alone, using unfamiliar clawed hands to clutch at the muzzles, beaks, or even proboscises now adorning their panic-stricken faces; others still seem to enter a sheer catatonia, either from their minds being torn apart from the opposing impulses of beast and man or from their sanity being torn by the mere experience.
The others, now knowing what approached them, turn to run as you had, but even they don't know the full power of the things that they wish to escape. A few fall while trying to run, and others simply aren't fast enough; these are consumed as the first victims were. Others still try to get beyond the reach of the creatures by hiding in their houses, their screams carried to you moments later. One man attempts to find sanctuary in a tree, climbing it believing himself to have narrowly dodged the invasion, but you know better, seeing a single bug crawl into his sneaker just before he makes his way to a tree branch. Soon, he screams like so many of the others, his shoe expanding from stress before being torn to shreds but the sudden explosion of growth, a glimmering emerald canine paw replacing it. For a moment it looks as though his changes have stopped, as though he might be safe from the rest of the horde that awaits below, but the shock of the transformation leads to a loss of balance that throws him from the tree and into the roiling sea beneath him, quickly becoming a wolf much like the one you'd seen before.
It's only a matter of minutes before the chaos of the bugs ends, replaced by the chaos of their aftermath. They still skitter about, covering the terrain below in dense patches where the ground beneath them can't be seen. Those who are unchanged flee in the distance; the ones who've lost their minds to whatever primal urges the infestation had caused in them give chase Those who've retained their sanity continue to search for safe haven, unable to come to terms with the fact that their humanity is lost, that there is nothing left to save, all the while letting out unnatural noises, horrible blends of animalistic and human screams, to lament their misfortune. The latex covering it all, from the tiny insects composed of it to the newly-changed beasts who now find it in their flesh, makes the entire scene almost surreal, pulling you from the realism... but in a sense, that only makes it far more real, and it's no longer something you can bear to watch.
You shut the blinds to your window, blocking off all sight of the world that ends around you. Your burden far too great to carry, yourself the only man left in a world of monsters, you are left with no choice but to stay in your home, hoping desperately that something will put all of this to an end before you share the fate of all those outside your walls.