Rat

Onion

The smell drives me forward. It is dark down here. It is cold, too; a wind blows across the ground, makes the hairs on my back tickle. I can smell life in the wind: other creatures, some like me although I do not know them. Others are alien. Some are completely different forms: edible though they are, I do not like the taste of their meat. I much prefer to eat creatures like myself.

But this smell is different. It smells of flavour. It entices me like no other. I can't explain why it drives me so; I can only say that it does drive me, and I am ashamed that I cannot exercise any self-control.

I smell. I chase. It is simple.

It is dark, but there is enough light for me to see by. The moon is out--an orb so bright that at times it might as well be day. My eyes are well accustomed to dark spaces. I can make out everything down here. Nothing else is moving; only me. I scamper over the small, barren hills towards the structure that towers over me.

The structure is flat; it's underbelly is all that is exposed to me. Cracks of light come through gaps. The light changes depending on the cycle of the planet. When the star is out, the light is mostly the same as the light around me; when the moon is out, the light alternates between bright slithers and gaps and then, oddly, nothing at all.

Now there was just the faintest slithers of light escaping through gaps nearby. This was where the smell was coming from. I headed right for it.

The smell and the light mixed and became one. I smelled the light. I reached a small clod of dirt and balanced precariously on top of it. I had to reach up to balance myself, and I spent a few moments holding the underside of the structure with one paw whilst my two hind-paws balanced in the dirt. Then I was ready.

I was ready to dig.

I had come and gone a few times over the past few planetary cycles. The wood came away under my claws. Even better, as I dug I felt my claws growing ever sharper. The more I dug, the faster I dug--and I dug upwards.

I worked for some time. I was lost in the process. Dig, dig dig. It was only when I broke through that the reality of what I had done hit me. I had broken through into the structure. I was in.

I poked my head up. Dried curls of onion peel drifted nearby. The smell was intense. I was there. And there were more smells now: some sweet, some less so. My heart began to race.

I lifted myself up, half exposed. I was distracted by the onion peels. That was my folly: I should have always remained more careful. A mistake.

A shadow fell over me. I looked up. Two dazzling eyes stared right back. They were intense, those eyes. I could see myself reflected, and I could see my fear.

I could smell my fear, too.

The monster struck. A single paw raced out at me. It was so fast. Only luck saved me--right at that moment, the clod of dirt I balanced on shifted and gave way.

Gravity claimed me before the monster could.

I fell, landed in the dirt on my back. The monster's head tried to reach through the gap and when it couldn't, it stuck through its paw. I dodged out of the way.

The path was closed. I could not get to my precious onions. It was time to return.

I did not have my onions, but I had my life. Few of us could claim such a feat. But tomorrow...

... Tomorrow, skill would replace luck. I would get those onions. No monster would ever stop me for long.