The chronicles of crippling fear and murderous rats
My final installation of the Jaron vs Fink’s pet rat, Rat, one shot series. Except, perhaps Rat isn’t the only rat that will make a deadly debut.
As always, hope you guys like it.
And be warned, some cursing is included.
Death was a fear that most people possessed and I was no exception. It was no coincidence that I had managed to avoid death at every turn. Anyone who knew me well enough was aware of my general aversion to it.
Before I returned to the throne I was completely alone. Survival, constantly at the forefront of my mind. And, unsurprisingly, survival was always overshadowed by a potential failure to survive, and the subsequent nothingness that followed. So death scared me, a lot. But I had come to learn that there were things that were much, much scarier.
"What do you think you're doing?"
I felt like a little boy again, stealing money from the treasury. Or the one caught sticking a ball on the castle's spire. The voice sent a shock throughout my entire body. At first, a pleasant feeling. Mild excitement that felt rather inappropriate in the context of my adoptive brother's chambers. But that was just the effect she had on me. Though it was quickly swarmed by fear. You have been caught. Surrender now while you still can.
I turned to face Imogen, whom watched on in a way that promised I wouldn’t get anything past her. I should have listened to my instincts. "Nothing."
She smiled sweetly. Trouble. "Good. Because I was looking for you," she was slowly backing me into a wall, cornering me until there was nowhere left to go. "You left pretty abruptly this morning. I was lonely. Care to tell me where you went?" Her fingers played with the collar of my shirt, pulling it down slightly so she could press a kiss to my skin, as high as she could reach without standing on her toes. This was an act, I had to remind myself.
She placed another kiss on my throat, "Try again." And as her grip tightened around my shirt ever so slightly, I wished, not for the first time, that I had stayed in bed that morning.
I swallowed, "Two errands?"
"Give me the rat." Her grip was tight as a vice and gone was the smile that would haunt my dreams. Her other hand locked around my wrist but I refused to let go of the bag. "Jaron. How do you think Fink would feel about you actively trying to murder his pet?"
"This isn't a pet, Imogen. It's a rat."
"He loves it like a pet so it's time you accept it."
"Like hell I will. This is my castle. Last I checked, I chose who stayed here."
"I'm about to be staying elsewhere if you don't give me that damned thing and stop acting like a child."
I conceded. Because what else could I have done but stroked her wrath even more. I still remembered when she was angry enough to sleep in another room, and remembered even more clearly the moment I knocked on her door and begged to join her. There were simply more important things than exterminating the lowest, beady-eyed, disease-carrying scum the world had to offer.
She took the bag out of my hand, ignoring the way I flinched when it moved. Even in anger she spared me the embarrassment. "How did you even get it in here? Don't tell me you grabbed it with you hand."
"You know well enough that I'd rather be hung."
"Yes, I know." With that thought she moved the bag further away from me, her eyes softening with something like sympathy. I felt some tension leave me.
I never considered myself a weak man, or a fearful one at that. But I gained no small amount of comfort from the certainty that Imogen would protect me from that beast.
"I figured it would come to anything resembling food. So I grabbed some scraps, propped open that bag and waited. When it was in, I just shut the bag."
"And you planned on taking it... where?"
Some things were better left unsaid.
"… You were going to drown it!?"
I shushed her frantically but she batted my hand away.
"Don't you dare try to shut me up, Jaron. You're about to be sleeping on the floor. I can't believe you."
"No, this has gone too far. You either talk to your brother or I will."
"What?" She snapped finally.
Involuntarily, my eyes darted behind her, and she must have caught on to my panic. Because she turned around slowly, as though not to startle me, and found what I was looking at. Between us and our exit, another small demon. Its nails scratching the floor as it crawled closer to us. I thought I might die right there and then. There wasn't even anything to climb up onto, nothing to separate us. My lungs had stopped doing their job the moment I saw it and the room was starting to spin. I was vaguely aware of Imogen's hand grabbing mine, surprised that it didn't slip free like a bar of soap from the sweat that would surely turn my clothes a few shades darker. But it was too late, the rat had heard us, and now, there was no escaping.
So yes, I admit. Three things scared me to death. Ironically, death was one of those things. Scarier yet was the love of my life. But only one other thing could compare to an angry Imogen. Rats.
I should pick Imogen up. That way only I had to suffer whatever fate awaited us. I'd guard her with my life, shield her with my body even if it was against the most formidable villain I had ever faced. I'd face a thousand vile rats for her, I'd-
Fink was here too, watching on. Eyes narrowed and arms crossed. A smile slowly brewing but not without malice.
"Fink, thank the Saints." Imogen, ever rational, spoke first. "Could you please shoo it, I'm terrified of rats."
I met her eyes in disbelief. Imogen had lied. She had lied to protect me from humiliation. My entire body warmed at the thought. I squeezed her hand in thanks and reminded myself to worship her twice as intensely than usual in gratitude.
"Yes, ever since I was a little girl. Please, Fink."
He only frowned thoughtfully. I'd tear his arms and legs off for taking so long to rescue us if it weren't for the very obvious obstacle that prevented me from getting to him. "Really? Because I don't think that's true." As Fink stepped forward, the rat shifted towards us as well. I pressed myself against the wall, trying to disappear, as Imogen planted herself firmly between us. "In fact, I don't think you're scared at all." Another step.
Fainting would solve many things. I'd be unconscious for what was about to happen, one. Imogen might be less inclined to reprimand me later, two. The impact of my body collapsing to the floor might be loud enough to scare the rat away from her, saving us both. Unfortunately, I had mastered many things that didn't include fainting on command, so my plan was useless. Everything was useless. Most of all Fink was useless who seemed to be leading the rat towards us.
He was leading it towards us.
Fink was leading it towards us. That little shit-
"Fink, I order you to get rid of it." I wished my voice didn't crack. I didn't sound nearly as menacing. "I'm your King."
"Or else what?" The words were like a stab to the gut. "You see, I suspected you didn't just hate rats. From the moment you found us in Dichell." Us - being him and his pet. "But I had nothing to confirm my suspicious." Another step took him past the only other direction the rat could go. It was just us now. Us and the rat. I gripped Imogen tighter, and she shifted so that her body was leaning against me in comfort. "At least, nothing until now... Ninette..." He smiled viciously, "... attack."
Someone was screaming - mostly likely me. I grabbed Imogen and hauled her off the ground instantly. The rat was running faster than a cannonball, staring at me with murderous intent. I prayed to the Saints, not that they ever listened and pressed harder into the wall, the stone probably permanently imprinting my already-mangled skin. I closed my eyes and held Imogen tighter. If this was how I died, at least Imogen was in my arms.
I didn't feel any claws digging against my trousers. Nothing chewing holes into my flesh. Not even a small bit of course, rat-fur. Calling it fur was too kind. There was nothing furry about it. I dared to crack open an eye, not without redoubling my grip on Imogen. The rat was watching from next to us keenly. Like a firm pellet of dung with a tendency to spread more shit.
I thought my eyes would pop out of my skull. Like a well-trained dog, the rat trotted back to Fink. Then it cocked its head at me - I swear it cocked its head at me - before clawing up Fink's entire body to sit on his shoulder.
"Positive reinforcement, role-model training and a lot of cheese," Fink cut me off.
I very slowly, very gently put Imogen down. She looked less perturbed, but shocked enough that I knew I hadn't just hallucinated the rat responding to literal commands.
"Rats are very intelligent. Ninette here learned most her tricks from Rat," he nodded at the bag Imogen still held - the one that contained the other hell-spawn. Rat was its name. Here I thought Rat was the only rat I had to protect myself against. "But there was also a lot of positive reinforcement and treats involved."
"You trained them like dogs and it worked?" Imogen sounded more fascinated than afraid.
Unlike her, knowing rats could be trained to attack me wasn't exactly the sort of thought that would help me sleep at night.
"Of course it did. Like I said, they are very intelligent."
"There. are. two. of. them?"
Both Imogen and Fink turned to look at me. Under their scrutiny I realised my legs were shaking. Some King I was.
"Oh yes. I started preparing Ninette for the mission when I found you in my closet. It didn’t take long to figure out why you were there."
"To catch you in the act." For a moment Fink looked sad, "I didn't want to believe that my own brother would try to kill my favourite pet."
Some part of me definitely died at his words. Hadn't Imogen warned me about this?
"I'll only forgive you if you promise to never come after them again."
And next, I'll start walking on water - is what I wanted to say. I may have been renowned for performing miracles but promising not to defend my castle - my home – from these creatures of the underworld, was a stretch.
But as I looked from Fink to Imogen, I knew again that there were more important things than fear. Like facing those fears head on. To keep my loved ones close and enemies closer. But not too close since every time I caught sight of them my health deteriorated.
"Ok," I allowed myself to breath, "I promise."
And then Fink started to cackle, as if me agreeing to something I detested was somehow funny to him.
"Because I finally got you."
Only a slither of restraint kept me from exploding. From fear, relief or anger, I wasn't sure. "What exactly do you mean?" I hissed.
"I made you feel the same terror I felt."
Evil. More evil than the rats was the grin that curled on Fink’s face. I knew what he was about to say. What Imogen was about to find out. What secret my brother, whom I was tempted to disown right about now, was about to reveal in the worst of ways. And not without making me suffer, twice as much. Because in addition to the bone-deep terror that was still coursing through me since my near-death experience, he was about to make Imogen very angry. Very, very angry.
"The same terror he felt?" Imogen turned to me, "Jaron, what is he talking about?"
No. Saints no. Please no.
"The same terror I felt when he jumped off a cliff with me tied to him and my hands around his neck and nothing but a poorly-tied rope keeping us from falling to our deaths."
As Imogen turned to me, I held perfectly still. The look in her eyes was enough to kill an army let alone one helpless man. I found myself praying again, much more fervently than before to the Saints that I hardly believed in and the Devils I knew were laughing. And as she took a single, deep breath, I knew I was doomed.
"Is everyone ok?" Roden appeared, looking as though he had run across the entire castle. "It sounded like a little girl was screaming."
