The Wicked Within

3. A Gift Of Rats

It opens its jaws and gnaws on you with its terrible teeth. You don't know it- but it is slowly infecting you, invading your body. Its a sickness, and death is the only cure.

*****

They got back to the neighborhood at 8:55. The others were going to go out and hang around for god knows how long, but Finn explained why he needed to get home.

"Your dad needs to get over himself," Allison said. The others nodded in agreement. Finn had first told them about how his dad hated (or "strongly disliked" as his dad said) them a little over a week ago, and they wouldn't shut up about. Finn tried to tell them that his dad was actually cool, just a tad overprotective, but they wouldn't listen.

Finn began the short walk home. The street was flooded with kids in elaborate (and some clearly thrown together last minute) costumes. Sugar crazed children ran around as embarrassed parents chased them. Finn tried to locate his sister and her friends, but had no luck.

Finn's mind began to wander as he neared his house. He couldn't get over how creepy the old store had been. Well, not really the store itself, but the feeling that it gave him. The feeling still hadn't quite disappeared. Finn's paranoia started raging- what if they shouldn't have gone in there? What if they weren't allowed to go in there? What if-

Stupid.

It's all just stupid. It's just a store. Just an old run down gas station. The feeling of being watched, how ever strange and long lasting it was, would eventually fade away.

He stepped onto his driveway and made his way to the front door. A giant bowl of candy with a note saying "take one, if you dare" taped to it was resting on a stool on the porch. Apparently his father had gotten lazy and decided to stop handing it out.

Inside, his dad was watching South Park and eating from another huge bowl of candy. He smiled at Finn and gave him a slight wave.

Finn returned it, then walked up the creaky stairs to his room. It being Halloween, he put in Evil Dead then Texas Chainsaw Massacre. After he if finished those, he fell asleep at the very beginning of another movie.

He had already planned to go to sleep after watching the second movie, he just put in the second one for a small source of light. He normally couldn't sleep in complete darkness, especially tonight. The feeling had mostly disappeared, but he was still a little uneasy. He wondered if the others felt the same.

He could hear South Park all the way from down stairs, Eric Cartman's slightly annoying voice creeping into his room, so he drifted off to sleep listening to music with his headphones.

Outside, though he didn't see it, there were almost no trick or treaters on the street. A cold October wind drifted through the now quiet neighborhood.

Quiet. Eerily quiet. The kind of quiet where one little noise made you want to piss your pants.

Tonight, that noise was the slight rustling of leaves right outside of Finn Johnson's house.

*****

Finn woke up to the sight of sunlight peering through his closed blinds. He yawned and stretched as he sat up.

He turned his head to his digital clock on the dresser. Seeing that the time was 10:30, he panicked for a second. Then he realised it was Saturday. Calming down, he stepped out of bed. He had woken up just in time for a late breakfast.
Right when his foot hit the floor, the feeling of something wet and mushy overtook it, and he jumped back onto his bed, startled. That's when the odor hit.

It was like onions and week-old Mexican food colliding. It hit so suddenly, a tidal wave of stench. Finn dug his fingers into his nostrils, but the smell still ripped it's way into his nose.

Finn looked around his room. It wasn't very hard to site the odor's source. In the middle of his room, on the middle of his white rug, was a pile of rats.

Dead, mulitlated, decomposing rats. Blood stains all over his once perfectly clean rug.

And not just on the rug. Some were lying scattered around his hard wood floor. He examined his foot.

It was covered in dark red liquid.

He felt his stomach do a three-sixty and he barely resisted the urge to vomit all over everything. Not able to think clearly, not able to comprehend what was happening, he did the only thing he could think to do:

"DAD!"

He heard noise from inside the hallway and it wasn't long before the door burst open.

"What is-" his dad stopped midsentence. His eyes widened as they scanned the room. He tried to say something- but they just came out in unitelligable stutters. Finally, he was able to get something out.

"Finn Johnson, what the hell is this?"

Finn's mouth fell to the floor. "N-no!"

His dad's face turned bright red and he ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair. Something he did when he was angry.

"I woke up and- and," Finn tried to say through his shock, but his mind couldn't put the words together.

"Why don't you get in the shower," Finn's dad was glaring at his son's bloody foot. "Then you can help me clean this up and explain what the hell this is."

And with that, the man thuderered down the stairs to get a mop and a trashbag.