Path of Vengeance

VII Bedridden

Jerry made certain to lock the door before departing. 10 seconds later, he was down stairs and out of breath. His face was quite red and he felt nauseous. He was now safe and sound in the living room. And there he could see his mother in bed, positioned between the flat screen television and sofa. A medical stand with IV bags hung on it was nearby, administering fluids and preventing her body from deteriorating sooner rather than later. She was asleep, and she had been so longer than yesterday or the day before.

Despite her undeniably worsening state, Jerry couldn't help but smile at seeing her rest peacefully. He knew he was a handful at a young age — before her diagnoses. And it satisfied him to see that his mother was capable of relaxing after all these years. Of course he wasn't nearly responsible now as he thought he was. Yet despite his obsession with videogames and bona fide hatred for school, he never forgot to take care of his mother. Just before he burst into his room to play earlier he made sure the machinery she was bound to worked properly, and didn't forget to put clean off her breakfast tray. And once he planted a kiss on her forehead Jerry was off. Though he had not expected to come down to greet her so early.

"Mom," the ambitious teenager whispered in her ear, "I hope I didn't wake you. I'm alright, we're both safe now. I won't let anything get in the way of your sleep, I promise. You know today I finally got a C in algebra. I suppose that's pretty sick compared to the D- I mentioned before. I'm getting better, just like you told me to. Please rest as long as you want. I've got everything under control."

Her facial expression was solemn and perfect with her long, brown and likely conditioned hair. Jerry made many promises, he even wanted to make money being a streamer — but in truth he was afraid to make himself known. Plus with the bigger names out there, it would be impossible for him to stick out. He wished things were easier, but for the sake of his mother pretended everything was achievable.

"You'll get better, I'm positive. Now I've got a situation totally worth taking care of, but trust me...nothing bad will happen."

Jerry then proceeded to the household phone with the intention of calling a local exterminator. Things appeared to be working out, yet as caring as he was for his mother — there was plenty of shade to be cast on him for his lack of intelligence. Because Fatty was indeed persistent, and a creature that size can be so mischievously smart that the devil himself would find it too generous to be awarded for creating such a thing.

As Jerry was dialing away, Fatty had managed to mold himself through the bottom of the doorway. His fur was dried up with foul chemicals and he was still awfully blinded. His sense of smell temporarily extinguished, the practically defeated hamster could hardly tell where he was going. Nevertheless, he moved onward — hopping down the stairway one step at a time.

I have been cursed! Whatever this...this pepper spray is...it packs quite a punch. As for how long these effects will last, I have no idea. I need to think quickly, before my goals grow farther than I can reach! Fatty hardly considered weighing his options. He could opt out of the ensuing battle and escape, or he could die with a sword in his fuzzy paws.

Fatty was convinced that the ladder was his only choice.

He had reached the final three steps, Jerry's voice seeming closer. Through his flawed eyeballs he could spot Jerry's blue adidas shoes and a cord close by. Fatty knew exactly what was happening and wanted nothing more than to put a spot to it. You're more than welcome to imagine Kill Bill's revenge siren is playing in the background.

Moving on, Fatty stealthily scurried towards Jerry and ultimately slid across the mahogany floor and right in between his pair of blue adidas. He made quick work of Jerry's shoelaces, untying them and making a sturdy knot that would surely take his enemy by surprise. The savage rodent also took care of the phone cord, severing it with his two front teeth.

It took at least 12 seconds before Jerry realized the line ran cold. He slapped his palm against it a few times as if it was a jammed firearm (of course, responding to a malfunctioned weapon in that manner still deserves a facepalm). "Come on! Piece of junk. My life is on the line!"

This is where your life ends and mine begins Fatty thought from beneath the nightstand in which the phone was charged on. It wasn't long before Jerry, flustered with the impaired device, decided to use his mother's cell. Though before he could approach her bed to retrieve it he found himself tripping under unknown circumstances.

Slowly, he turned over and groaned. Although the wind wasn't entirely knocked out of him he was undoubtedly confused. And out from underneath the nightstand he saw a maltreated Fatty standing with hysterical candle lights flickering in his tiny eyes. "Oh, fuck."

"You're goddamn right." Fatty announced, cracking his mini knuckles.

"Wait, I-I'm not ready!"

Fatty sighed, his facial expression even more disapproving. And with that he began his futile speech. "You think I care? After all I've been through, after you stuffed me away and forgot that I existed? If you didn't want me you could've just tossed me the fuck out but it is apparent that you saw me as nothing more than an insect with zero emotions! Your negligence, your ego, and your severe lack in common sense is going to get you killed now. How does it feel, almighty scumbag? How does it feel knowing you're about to suffer a great deal before taking your final breath? I've got probably a year left before I die! You know that the average hamster only lives about 2-3 years, right amigo? My entire existence could end right when I've finally settled down. The stakes may be high, but they're gonna be fair!"

Jerry scooted away in a frenzy as Fatty approached him ominously. Using his left heel he attempted to push his right shoe off, panicking all the way. There was absolutely no time to untie his shoes before the malicious hamster would strike. He rolled onto his back, making for his mother's bed. "Mom!" Jerry cried, "Mom you have to wake up!"

Now I would like to get this out of the way as soon as possible: no, Fatty does not harm the mother whatsoever. You shall see how things play out eventually.