13 - Greasy Rat

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Fraser


I might crawl out of my skin.

Everything itches, I feel like I'm on fire with hunger from within. Its hot and irritating, and it won't go away. I groan, rolling onto my stomach and hissing as the cold stone takes the edge off my hunger fever. The relief is fleeting. Before too long my boiling skin seeps into the rocks, and they turn freezing to steaming in a few seconds.

My eyes flick open, staring at the dust covering the ground and feeling lower than hell itself.

For whatever reason, my mind continues to wander to Ailsa. I wish she were here. I find myself yearning for her presence.

I fight it. I hate this pathetic reliance and fascination that I have with this human girl.

I tell myself that it's because she's the only other soul that I have in this miserable place. Ailsa is the one I can always count on to be kind to me, especially now that I need it the most. She's like a ray of sunshine in this pit of despair.

That's the only reason why I should be so desperate to see her all of the time. In the back of my mind I know it's just an excuse, just a reason that will keep me from considering the real reason.

Everytime I close my eyes I see her, I smell her. Her pale skin. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Pink mouth. Delicate throat. She smells like outside, like the sun and the wind and river water trickling over rocks.

The smell evades me as another takes its place. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, focusing on the smell and tuning my ears in to join the investigation.

I hear the little pitter patter of tiny feet, so tiny that I already suspect what it is that has invaded my prison. Even if it is torture down here, it's still technically my space, and I don't enjoy my solitude being interrupted.

A gray rat scuttles into my line of vision. He sticks his little pink nose high in the air. He takes a long whiff, searching for danger, hoping to score a meal to fill his hungry little belly.

I resist the urge to sit up and shove my arm through the bars. Usually, I would have no problem snatching the vermin with lightening speed, mg hand moving so quick that no human eye could detect the movement.

But, with my starvation and lack of moonlight, my strength and concentration is at an all time low.

So, I do something I've rarely had the chance to practice in my life.

Patience.

It's a waiting game now, watching through one cracked eye as the crusty rodent creeps forward cautiously.

The stale loaf of bread sits forgotten in the corner, the scent of it a toxic lure for the pesky creature.

The poor thing follows its nose to the morsel, not knowing that it's being led to an impending death by a brutal blood draining.

He crosses into my cell, one step at a time until he's right before my face.

I'm so still that the rat doesn't even register me as another living thing.

I spring like a trap, slamming down on it with my fingers sinking into its flesh. He squirms and squeals in alarm, fighting for his life that's about to come to a horrific close.

I sink my teeth into the smelly, fury chunk of meat. Blood, sweet precious, untampered life blood floods into my awaiting mouth.

Groaning, I gulp the crimson quickly. My throat slick with warm, coppery goodness. It rushes into my stomach and flows strength immediately into my veins.

I swallow so fast that I start choking, sputtering around the splash of blood. But that doesn't stop me, no, it doesn't even slow me. It's a small hurdle that I leap over to get to my goal.

Draining each and every drop from this rodent.

It takes a minute of slurping before I'm done, dropping the empty carcass to the stone cold ground and taking a deep, shuddery breath to attempt to steady myself.

Staring down at the greasy rat that was alive not long ago, a streak of self hatred strikes through me.

I hate hurting any innocent creature, and now I've been forced to kill. It may just be a rat, but I shouldn't have been backed into such a desperate corner.

A broken, crinkling son shakes out of my mouth. I put my hand over my lips that are still wet and probably stained bright red to expose my sin.

I may hate the choice I made, but it's kept me alive to see another day. Another night that I might see Ailsa.

 Another night that I might see Ailsa

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