Nutcracker [Discontinued]

3 Ralph the Rat King

Can the clock be any louder?

The grandfather clock is just on the other side of the foyer where the Christmas tree stands--where that cursed doll is.

I step inside, cautious for some reason. The ugly thing is over by one of the sofas, its hands resting on its dress. I circle the Nutcracker. Looking at it gives me the creeps. The face looks too perfect.

All right, just get it over with, Fritz.

I place my hands on its arm and bring the arm toward me. I jerk it out to the side and hear the crack of wood splintering.

The blasted clock chimes.

Did the doll just wince?

The old clock continues to chime.

Wasn't I taller than the fireplace?

I swear it just blinked.

Okay I know I was taller than the footrest.

I hear a gasp.

I have to be at least taller than a present.

Yep, it moved its arm.

I'm still taller than it.

It grabs its broken arm.

I'm smaller than one of Clara's old baby dolls.

It cries out in pain.

I'm the size of a doll in my sister's doll house.

No. No. No.

"You. What did you do?" It speaks.

I stand frozen, eyes opened wide.

A noise like stampeding horses comes from near the fireplace. Both our heads snap toward it.

"Quick, I need a sling," it says.

"Excuse me?"

"A piece of fabric, you idiot."

My eyes scour the room in a hurry. But then I stop and look at it. "No. This is all a dream."

"That's what they all say and it never is, you fricken idiot."

"Can you stop calling me an idiot?"

"Oh I'm sorry, would you like me to massage your feet as well?"

This time a crash is heard.

"Get behind me," it orders, whirling toward the noise.

"No. You're injured." I push it behind me.

"No, really."

I picture it rolling its eyes.

The ground shakes and I nearly lose my balance. From a rat hole comes, well, rats. I take a step back crashing into the Nutcracker. The rats stalk toward us.

One approaches us directly and stands on its hind legs. I can almost picture its claws as fingers. He sneers. I don't know how I know it's a he, it just looks like a he. And the fact that a rat sneered is somewhat disconcerting. "Princess."

She's a princess now?

"Ralph, how not a pleasure?"

Wait the rat talked? But he doesn't look so much like a rat now. He almost looks like a man, with black hair, black trousers and a black leather shirt. A fur cloak is resting on his back and the hood is pulled over is head, covering the top half of his face.

"So will you be coming with us this time?" the rat asks.

The Nutcracker laughs. "You amuse me, Ralph."