"The Rat" #ReedsyUnknown

Trigger warning: This short story contains gore, graphic violence, fear, mental illness, animal abuse, death, and an unsettling theme.

The Rat

Flynn was my best friend in the world. He could talk me into just about anything. Well, maybe anything at all. When Flynn was by my side, I was fearless. Or was it that Flynn could twist my arms with his words? Nonetheless, my fear seemed to melt away when Flynn was by my side. I could follow him to madness.

One cold night, my phone rang. I lazily picked up the smart phone to find Flynn making goofy faces at the screen. He was face-timing me and I could see him dicking around, practicing his smolder, in real time. I swiped my phone to answer, “What's up, Flynn?”

“You're going to want to get dressed.” Flynn said, bluntly. “I have a surprise for you. You'll eat this up!”

Flynn was excited about something, so I got dressed and headed out the door. It was cold. I could feel my teeth clacking together the moment a breeze swept past. I had turned back to my apartment to grab a heavier jacket, but I heard a car. Everyone on the block could hear Flynn’s junky car.

“Oh good! You're dressed! Get in!” Flynn yelled from the window of his beat up, rusted Mustang.

“I need a different jacket!” I hollered back. But Flynn gave me THAT look. The look that made me want to follow him to the end of the world, despite my discomfort and chattering teeth. I rolled my eyes at him, locked my apartment, and hopped in his car.

We drove to the edge of town where the unwanted dwelled. It was unsettlingly creepy here. Unmarked warehouses were scattered among dilapidated houses. Newspapers and bags danced around in the gusty cold alleyways. Every other building had boards nailed to their windows. Amateur spray paint art peppered several buildings. Flynn stopped at one house in particular. The house hauntingly stood before us. Its windows painted black, and its wood siding curled in places.

“What is this?” I asked. “I'm not getting in trouble for vandalizing a house.” I said to Flynn.

“You need to chill.” he scoffed. “We're not vandalizing anything. I heard a story about this place and I intend to check it out.”

“Do I even want to know what you've heard about this piece-of-crap house?” I was not amused, but Flynn's eyes sparkled with excitement.

“There was a murder here. Twelve years ago, a sweet family was having dinner one night and BAM! I heard that people a whole mile away could hear their screams. I heard that whatever killed them,” he paused to emphasize the terror, “wasn't human.”

“That's a crock of shit, if I've ever heard it!” My interest was piqued, but I couldn't let Flynn know that.

“It's true!” Flynn rang out. “They say that their bodies were so mangled, they had to use dental records and DNA to confirm their identities. Authorities wrote it up as an animal attack, but there aren't animals like that around here.”

Flynn was serious. Whatever he had heard about this place, he believed it to be true. “So... you want us to break in? Not interested.” I said, turning my nose away.

Flynn held up a key with a devilish grin. “Not breaking in.” he said. He had that look again. That look I could not say no to. So we went in.

As we creaked open the front door of the abandoned house, my stomach churned. I stared into the void inside the door. Fear bubbled up inside me and I choked. No, that wasn't fear. What in God's name was that horrible smell? I covered my nose with my jacket sleeve, but it barely helped.

“Jesus! It reeks in here!” Flynn announced as he stepped into the darkness of the wretched house. Then, he clicked on a flashlight.

Blood stained the entryway, the walls, the staircase. It was everywhere. At least, I thought it was blood. After hearing Flynn's story, it had to be. My heart sank into my stomach. The fear inside me began to boil over. “I think we should leave, Flynn. This doesn't seem right.” I gave my friend, my best friend, a look of pleading.

Flynn chuckled at me. “Come on, Frankie boy! I just want to look around a little bit. It won't take long, promise.”

Flynn gave me that look again. That look that could calm me. That look that could make me follow him to my death. So, I did. I followed him.

We walked around for a long while. We explored each room one by one. The search felt like forever. What were we searching for again? Blood stained every inch of the place. The acrid smell lingered in every room. The smell of death. The smell that could make me forget about the cold. However, we found nothing of real interest. The house was nearly empty. Littered with trash and the occasional piece of torn-up furniture. “There's nothing here.” I said, hoping to get Flynn and myself back in his beat-up car and out of this beat-up house.

“There is one more place I want to check.” Flynn walked toward a door in the back of the empty kitchen.

I followed him. I was ready to get out of here. Flynn led me to a door to what, I assumed, was the basement. He grabbed the handle and looked at me with a smile. I could feel that fear boiling up again. He held my gaze and opened the door. The odor! We were instantly hit with the worst smell I had ever experienced. It was like rotting meat, but worse. I did not want to find out what was causing the stench, but Flynn shone his light down the dark stairs and walked in. I followed. I could follow him to the end of days, and I would.

The stairs were steep and crooked. They groaned and squeaked on our descent. “Oh my God!” Flynn gasped and put his hand over his mouth.

I leaned around my friend, who was blocking my view of the space. Oh my God! The basement floor was covered in dead animals. Small animals by the look of it. Squirrels, cats, maybe a dog or two. They were all in various stages of decay, strewn about the floor of this terrifying old basement. In the corner, a makeshift bed. My stomach wrenched and I turned away from Flynn just in time to vomit on the stairs behind me.

“Let's get out of here.” I spewed between heaves.

Suddenly, the door slammed behind us! We stood as still as we could, both shaking, ragged breaths. Flynn had the light pointed at the basement door, and we heard heavy shuffling on the floor behind us. We both whipped around so fast our necks could have snapped. Flynn shown the flashlight into the eerie basement and right before our eyes, stood a beast. He towered over us, his skin looked as if it would melt off like tender slow cooked meat that falls off the bone. Pustules covered his lumpy skin, some were oozing sores. His eyes, the most terrifying, looked like pits in hell. Sockets so deep, you could be lost in them for eternity.

“Wha...What are you?” I stuttered up at the creature.

He replied in a garbled, raspy voice, “Not what! Who. I am you.”

Did I hear this thing correctly? Me? This was nonsense. “You...You can't be... m..m..me. I am here and you are...” I gulped down the terror which rose in my throat.

His jagged, wet voice replied, “Remember. Bit by a rat in the alley. Then we changed. We were hungry. Starved.” He choked on phlegm as he continued, “Poor family. Poor babies. But, so tasty.” He bellowed, then cleared his throat and stood up as tall as he could. “Look! Look at me! You wanted to be you! You wanted a friend. You wanted Flynn.”

The memories flooded my mind like a suitcase being packed too tight. My childhood friend. My best friend. I would follow him till death. And I did.

We had been playing in the alleys of the trash part of town. The rats came out of the sewer in droves. I was bitten over and over. I watched my friend writhe and scream in pain as the rats ate his poor body. But they didn't kill me. There was no end for me. I managed to escape. I followed Flynn there. Then, I left him to die. I hid in the cellar of a house nearby. Then I changed. I was ravaged by hunger, unaware of my changing body, I found my way into the upper levels of the house and... It was me!

I opened my eyes after the flashbacks of what had happened filled my head. I was standing in that dark basement, facing the empty staircase where Flynn and I had been standing. My eyes wandered down to my bloody hands. Skin blistered and dripped puss, I screamed in horror and grief. I mourned my old self, yet refused to accept my new life. I screamed until I spat blood. I had let my imagination roam too far again. Then, hunger seized me. My only thoughts left were how to get my next meal. Starved.