As the townsfolk geared up to have the four hundredth and seventh annual rat burning, one small child had been reported missing. As word spread of this horrible news, everyone was asking a reward to better fund the search. Of course, their demands were met with a small fee of two grand. As the fellow people of the town fanned out to search, something peculiar happened. The ground had begun to cave in and the sewers catacombs were beginning to get exposed to the outer world. The seventh rat burning festival is supposed to be a merry time, as the local street rats are caught and then burned to the fine, crispy texture we know as rat burgers, a fine delicacy only made and served once a year. But as the ground gave way, the world had become a whole different place. It had seemed the sewers were beginning to catch fire, as the chemicals from the rocks ignited from mixing with the oxygen in the air. Harmless waters turned into deadly, hellish fire pits. The heaviest townspeople fell first into the complex catacombs below. Out of the tunneled darkness, a patter of little feet cut the silence. The people who fell in were the most frightened by far as the herd of what seemed to be rats charged out of the darkness like a stampede of wild bulls. Tearing through the clothes of the horrified people. One rat seemed to latch onto an unsuspecting humans back, and tore through the flesh like a knife through butter. On that awful night, only few had survived.
