Of Mice and Murder- A Short Story

*TRIGGER WARNING*

Mouse gore, mouse death, and mouse violence.

Deep inside St. Joseph's cathedral, behind the organ and through a minuscule tear in the wall, the mice gathered around the table, each of their faces illuminated by the flickering candlelight.

Thunder crackled ominously outside the dimly lit mouse den while they all dined together for the first time in weeks. So, Larissa-how has the sewing business been treating you? Uncle Mike asked from the head of the table, grooming his pink snout and ears with his paws. Oh, fine, dear, thank you for asking...

Their squeaks were drowned out by the rain thumping loudly on the tin roof, trickling down the windows, and swiftly being caught in the bucket below. The tink, tink, tinks ricocheted around the room, a reminder of the stormy days to come.

The table was spread with typical mouse-y foods, which all of them enjoyed: buttery brie, creamy caciocavallo, milky muenster, and the like.

Piper, the youngest, despised storms, so she cowered on her mother's lap while lightning struck and thunder boomed. She listened indifferently to the fully grown mice gathered nearby, nibbling on thick bread and gouda cheese, and watching the rain trickle down the small, round windows. Each crack of lightning sent a shudder down her spine, and Piper quivered on the matchbox settee.

Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong.

The clock had struck seven. Her ears twitched as she listened- there was a swift tapping on the floor, approaching briskly. Who could be coming? Piper thought. They sounded urgent- eager for their arrival to be hasty. She heard claws scraping at the wooden door and saw the brass handle turn ever so slightly-

Creeeeak...

Death entered- a mysterious, cloaked figure, shrouded in mist. His sunken eyes glazed over each of the mice. The room was now silent- a once lively place, filled with squeaks and chatter, became a muted, vast room. Knives stopped cutting. Teeth stopped chewing. Breath was held, each wondering why Death had come. Why now? Who was this untamed beast?

The candles went out from Death's chilling presence, and smoke curled under each of their snouts. Ears twitched nervously and looks passed between each other- looks that Piper couldn't quite decipher. She looked up at her mother, who stood frozen in indecision and anxiety, whiskers trembling. The room was cold, and Piper could see her own breath in the air, heavy with fearful anticipation.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Death looked around the room, glistening eyes surveying the guests, instilling fear in all the mice. He removed his scythe from his long, tattered cloak.

And one by one he slit their throats.

Shhhhk.

Squeaks erupted from each of them, but it seemed as though the more chaotic and afraid they became, the quicker they would fall to Death's poisonous trap.

Piper trembled, hiding under the table, and watching her family members become prey to this ravenous beast that was plucking off her household one by one. They squirmed under the firm grasp, panting for breath, their tails lashing helplessly.

MOTHER! she cried, her gentle squeaks to never be heard,

FATHER! A hopeless attempt.

Uncle Mike crawled from under the table, his dark, beady eyes illuminated by moonlight. Piper shuddered- intangible fear coursing through her veins as her desperate gaze flicked from his ears to his tail, and then met his frantic eyes. Piper watched his desperate attempt to flee, and she sat frozen, trembling in fear.

SQUEEEEEEEAK!

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Piper willed herself to not look- but it was impossible to escape the thick blood, staining the carpet a scarlet red.

Piper... his voice called out weakly, Leave this place while you still can. He was not dead yet- it had only just begun. Her uncle- who had been grooming himself carelessly moments before, was now a massacred, bloody mess. His raspy last breaths filled the room, creating a cursed lullaby accompanied by the incessant ticking of the grandfather clock.

What could she do? Where could she go? But out of all the anxieties crashing like a waterfall inside of her mind, the question that terrified her most was: What comes next?

What comes next- a simple question, yet bearing so much weight. Heavy with the promise of a new future, delicately held in her paws that were coated in blood.

She considered what to do. Run? Hide? Pray that Death didn't find her? This ferocious creature seemed so inescapable...

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock

Piper couldn’t ignore them anymore- the bodies surrounding her, stained deep red, their lifeless, glazed stares embodying pain and regret. She looked each of them in the eye, defying her fear.

Standing up, she heard the last of Uncle Mike’s breaths. His eyes quickly glazed, and she saw a thin, bony hand wrap around his tail and drag him back to be devoured by the darkness. He was pulled under the table, leaving a morbid trail of blood behind.

It was only Piper, left to hide alone, cloaked in shadows.

Death had taken her family.

Death had left her an orphan.

The cloaked figure could sense her. Piper knew it. But as he started to walk away, leaving his crop behind, the courageous mouse knew that she couldn't let him leave. It was by choice that he hadn't gathered her yet, choice that she had to endure the other's suffrage, choice that she was still here.

But now Piper could make the choice. One that would determine the rest of her future. Fate had led her to this very moment, interwoven with mice and experiences, tightly entwined with the delicate fabric of the small mouse hole that was her entire world.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Death- the cause of her grief, her pain, her story- met her eye as she stood, defiant. She felt that Death couldn't touch her, that Death couldn't hurt her. She felt invincible.

Piper would be brave. She would get her family back and reap the seeds of revenge that Death had sown deeply in her heart.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.