Mindy Silsby sat on the couch reading a romance novel and listening to the storm rage like an angry God outside. She could hear the rain slashing at the windowpanes. Thunder exploded like a shell in the distance. Laying the book aside, she got up and walked over to the little curio in the corner, to make sure she had enough candles in case the power went out.
He stepped in the shadows of the shed, pulling his dark hat down over his eyes, when he saw her silhouette move against the curtain. The howling wind pushed his black duster against him and a drop of the cold rain dripped down the back of his neck, tracing it like the icy cold finger of death.
Lightening flashed out across the sea, tracing its spider webbed fingers down on the water's surface. He watched for her to sit back down. Checking his pocket to make sure the duct tape was there, a smile crept across his cold lips. Reaching down he picked up the covered box with the handle that sat next to him and headed around to the back door.
Mindy turned the page of the book. Yawning she glanced at the clock. 9:30. A black gloved hand suddenly covered her mouth.
"Hush." he said in a harsh whisper behind her.
She nodded, frightened. Her arms were pulled behind her and duct taped. He came around the front, and knelt. Mindy couldn't see his face under the long brimmed black hat he was wearing. Finished he turned, standing. Then picking up the box, he walked over toward the chair that was near the fireplace.
The dancing flames cast his shadow on the wall, giving it the illusion of its own life. Sitting down in the arm chair, he was cast in shadow from the dim light of the fireplace. He looked at her.
"Mindy."
His raspy voice frightened her. How did he know her name? Who was he? She tried to remain calm, trying not to let him see her fear. Sweat trickled down her back. Mindy wondered if a man like this could smell fear.
"Who are you?"
The man made no reply. She could see that he smiled, but with the flames dancing across his face and still slightly covered with that hat, she did not know. He tapped his fingers on the covered box that sat on his lap, and then uncovering it, he sat it down on the floor next to him.
"Still making trouble?" It was more of a statement, then a question.
She swallowed. The voice was raspy and harsh. But it was some what familiar. He sat back deeper into the chair. The wind screamed, rattling the windowpane. He just stared at her.
"What do you want from me?" she was near tears now, as the fear gripped her like a vice.
"People," he said. "Think that the brown or Norway rat is the most vicious in the rodent world." He folded his hands under his chin, staring into the fire. "That simply is not true. Sure, they'll bite if frightened, rabid, or they've been poisoned."
His voice, she knew his voice. It was from some where out of her past. The name escaped her at the moment. He rubbed his hands together as if cold, and then he placed his fingers together forming an arch.
"The rats carried the plague that spread through medieval Europe."
"No. The Egyptian flea, X-Cheopis carried the bacteria. But, good guess. The rats are susceptible to the bacteria, the same as we are." He paused. "They were carried by the Black rat. The fleas preferred the silky hair of the black rat."
He pulled a flute from his pocket. Mindy's arms were beginning to ache. She wiggled her fingers behind her. He laid the flute across his lamp. Taking off his hat, he smiled at her.
The flames danced like a ghost across his face, and she could see the burning hatred in his eyes. Eric Dawson.
"Remember me? Of course you do."
The knot of fear tightened in her stomach. Eric. He had sworn years ago, he'd return and teach the "Little Bitch", not to ever threaten him.
"You drove her away.
You turned her against me."
Removing his gloves, he cracked his knuckles. The hate, burning coals in his eyes. Mindy wanted to scream. But, the wind and the storm would only drive it away.
"You drove her away yourself."
He turned and spit in the fireplace, then turned to her. The anger and the hate, was now a burning fury in his face. Smiling, he tapped the flute on his knee.
"The Norway rat," he began. "Can pretty much be made a pet. That's where the domesticated rat came from." He paused. A log in the fireplace popped, causing Mindy to jump. He smiled at her fear. "But, the Black rat, or ship rat has never been domesticated. You know, they do become accustomed to people though. But, they only bond with one person only, unlike the Norway rat."
Eric stared at her for a long moment.
"I loved her."
"You had a funny way of showing it."
"Filthy bitch, you had no right to interfere!"
Mindy grew silent watching the rage burn in his face, and his eyes become hate filled balls of fire. He reached down, bringing up the box that had been covered. She could see that it was not a box at all. But, that it was a cage. Black shapes moved around inside the box. Picking up the flute, he looked at her.
"When the right frequency is heard," he said, holding up the flute. "Rats can understand what you're saying to them."
Eric blew into the flute and the rats looked at him from inside the cage. He blew a couple more times and they braced up against the sides of the cage, falling in line.
"When the tune is just right, you can get these Black rats to do what you wish, unlike a Norway." He looked at her. "Great pets, but not for what I have in mind." He smiled. "For you."
Eric opened the door of the cage and raised the flute to his lips, giving her one last smile. The rats poised, sniffing the air, as if awaiting his command. He gave two quick notes on the flute; they walked out of the cage in a line. Then
he gave three quick notes on the flute. Then she did scream, only to be lost in a blast of thunder.
He began to play something like a waltz, and the rats ran toward her and up her legs. The claws felt sharp as glass on her legs and arms. She screamed when she felt their razor sharp teeth sink into her flesh. Mindy's screams were cut off, when three of the rats climbed on her mouth and nose. Still another jumped on her eyes.
Eric looked at the dying fire. He covered his friends, taking one last look of Mindy. He would repay them all. But for tonight, he was satisfied. He left the living room, making his way out the back door and into the stormy night.
