Rats

“I’ll never remember all these pass codes, brother,” Vincent said as he poked at the number pad outside the front entrance. “There are far too many.”

“Precautions,” Matthew said as he punched in the code for him. “We mustn’t have another incident.”

“No, we mustn’t,” Vincent replied, smiling. He told his older brother good night and watched him get into his car and then pull out from the curb into the dark night.

Matthew approached his car and patted his pockets to find his keys. He found nothing, and remembered leaving them in the downstairs kitchen back inside. He walked to the door, punched in the code and entered the dark halls of the D’Tamme Funeral Home.

One month prior, the home had been broken into and the body of a 12-year-old girl, who died of heart complications, was stolen. The police said the thief’s motive was probably to sell her organs on a black market. A lengthy investigation was held, but no arrests were made. The girl’s parents, as was expected, were mortified.

Matthew made his way to the kitchen and grabbed his keys on the counter. He was just about to go back upstairs when he heard a loud crash from the morgue. Matthew stared through the plastic windows of the door separating the two rooms. The only light in the morgue came from a desk lamp in the middle of the room. Matthew saw nothing move, not even a shadow. He reached for the butcher knife sitting on the cutting board and slowly crept into the room.

Matthew heard and saw nothing when he inspected the room and concluded it was his imagination. Just as he was about to leave, he heard a rustling sound coming from the supply closet next to the entrance. He was positive someone was in there.

“Hello?” he said pressing his ear against the door. All noise stopped completely.

Matthew flung the door open and quickly flipped on the light switch. It took a moment for him to realize what he was looking at. After he did, Matthew dropped the knife and gagged.

Inside was the body of the missing girl, showing signs of decomposition, and lying in a bed. The small, damp closet had been made up like a young girl’s bedroom. The walls were painted pink, posters of teen heart throbs were adorned to the wall. A small lamp that was on a shelf lay broken on the floor. Large, dirty rats crawled all over the room and the body. They cast a quick glance at Matthew and then returned their attention to their dead, rotting meal.

Matthew backed into the kitchen and vomited into the sink. After regaining his composure, he grabbed the broom behind the refrigerator and returned to the morgue.

“Get away from her, you disgusting creatures!” he yelled as he chased the rats back into their dark holes in the walls.

After all the vermin had retreated, Matthew sat on the edge of the bed and gently held the body in his arms, rocking her back and forth.

“Don’t worry sweetie. They won’t bother you anymore,” he said, brushing the stray hairs from her eyes. “The dirty rats are gone.”

Matthew smiled and gently kissed her on the forehead.

“Daddy will take care of you.”