Rat

Feast

My crew is disappearing. There were fifteen of us--me, and fourteen others--and now there is just a handful. I do not know where they have gone. I believe they are dead.

This is disasterous.

Three venture out. That leaves just two of us. Our burrow is silent. There is nothing to say. We know the three will not come back, but they have to go out and search all the same. Our crew is in danger. Where have they gone? Why did they not come back? I fear the worst.

Part of me wants to believe that they have found some place better... But why did they not return to find us? They would have returned. They would not have left us.

Which leaves the other option. Death. They have not come back because they have died. But what killed them? We must know, or else it will come for us.

But when we leave our burrow, death comes all the same. Would it be better to not venture out at all? That is why I remain. It is not cowardice. I do not want to die. One does not need to die to be brave.

Now it is just me. The three did not return, and my companion has gone now, too. The burrow is empty.

This is where cowardice kicks in. I do not want to venture outside, but I must. What happened to my crew? I must know. Something must be salvaged from this disaster. If I find out what happened, I can warn others. I can warn everyone.

I must leave this burrow. I have no reason to believe that the burrow is safer than anywhere else. Only... None of us have died in the burrow.

But I am outside now. The star's warmth washes my face. It is bright. Green grass is all around me. None of my crew is with me.

I venture away from the burrow. The hole is far behind me. I am not comfortable in the light. I hunt for darkness: there is something up ahead of me--a ledge, and a shadow underneath. I head for it.

Instinctively, I know my crew have all acted the same way. We have all headed for this darkness, and none of us have ever returned.

I slow. I smell death. I smell my crew.

And here I stay, but the star's light on my back makes me itch for the safety of darkness. There is nowhere else. I am drawn to the shadows.

I am drawn towards the smell of death.

Now the shadows hide me. There is not much room to move. Dead grass is under my feet, but that is not where the smell comes from. Forwards. Deeper. I see something in front of me. It is a small box.

I smell food. The food is in the box. I head towards it. Food and death. A bad combination.

My eyes see well in the dark, but they do not want to see this. There is the box. It is the same size as I am. There is a hole in the side. I can smell food. I would have to crawl through the hole to get at the food.

There is something blocking the hole. I can't get to the food.

Two feet, claws dormant. Two legs. A tail. A corpse is blocking my way. My crew. It saves me.

Nothing is safe on this planet. I must always be wary. Two things, I must always watch for.

Food and death.