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Horror/Scary

This week:

Edited by: schipperke
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Do you suffer from musophobia? I do, although I didn’t realize it until last month.

My night started innocently enough, as I went down stairs to the basement to let my dog out to do his business. When I turned on the light, I could see something leaping up and down in the open tupperware container that holds my birdseed. As I got closer, my dog lunged forward, growling. Inside the container was a brown mouse with huge black eyes, frantically trying to get away from the snapping jaws of my killer fifteen pound dog. It did manage to scale the slick wall of the container and scoot off into a shadowy corner on the opposite side of the basement.

A mouse! I had never seen a mouse in the house before, although my husband thought he had seen eaten and discarded black oil sunflower seed shells, and itsy bitsy droppings near the doors. I didn’t scream, or jump on the step ladder. Instead, I went to get my husband.

The mouse was actually sort of cute, with its big eyes and little face, but I didn’t like the idea of it running around my basement while we were sleeping. My husband wasn’t upset, but went and got traps we had stored from when we had a mouse in our car. He set them up with peanut butter and resumed watching TV.

SNAP! SNAP! We heard two of the traps springing shut. He had just shut off the lights five minutes before. I made him go downstairs to look. Sure enough, two more mice were goners in the traps. He disposed of the little critters, and set up more traps.

After one week, he killed nine mice. The thought of the mice running around in my basement started to be an obsession. I began to think of all the damage mice could do to the house. I imagined them dining on my dry walls, munching on electrical wires, and noshing on my dog’s food. I could picture one sneaking up the stairs and sliding under the kitchen door, finding a gold mine of treats in my kitchen. Suddenly, all the mouse family is upstairs finding my cookies and my Wheaties. What if I walked downstairs for a late night snack and stuck my hand in the cereal box and a mouse bit me instead of a flake? What if my dog went to drink out of his water bowl and there was a mouse turd in it? What if they discovered they could reach all three levels of the house and decide to spread out? Then I would hear their claws behind the walls at ear level while I tried to sleep. Then I could hear them squeak to each other about their latest find. AHHH. I spent a couple of nights creeping down the basement stairs to see where they were coming in.

My smart husband decided if he got rid of the food source, meaning the open container of bird seed, the mice would leave. And they did. But my thoughts and fears about mice have not left. Fears such as musophobia are great starts for inspiring a horror story. Please enjoy the stories in my selections for the week and read what your fellow members think about rodents.

And may you never hear the scamper of tiny clawed feet behind your walls.

schipperke's Picks of the Week

This week's picks are all about my favorite rodent!

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