I’ve been told almost everyone has a fear of some kind. Whether the fear is of needles, clowns, or even water, it’s normal to be afraid of something. For me, it was always rats. Ever since I was a child the mere thought of their beady eyes and worm-like tails sent shivers down my spine. Being born and raised in a rural area of North Carolina, rats were commonplace and eventually, I learned to deal with them. It was never easy but regardless, growing into adulthood it was unavoidable to deal with them at points in time. Even then my skin would crawl at the sight of them.
As humans tend to do, I continued to progress through the adventure we call “life”, meeting a girl, having kids of my own, and eventually looking into achieving a house of my own. Luckily enough for me all of this became true and I found myself moving into a small farmhouse in a quiet town I can guarantee nobody has ever heard of. We even added a few cats to our growing family. Everything went great and my thoughts of the creepy rodents seemed to fade into the back of my mind. Besides, what were the chances of them appearing when we had our feline friends to protect us?
Sadly this was far from the truth I would experience, being our third night in our new home I could make out a familiar sound, a soft scratching at the wall behind where I laid my head for the night. Instantly the hairs covering my arms stood up on edge as vivid images of the disgusting beast filled my mind. But as soon as it started it stopped and as the hours passed by I no longer heard any activity from the creature. Only a sigh of relief could be heard in the otherwise silent room before I was finally able to drift back asleep.
The following morning I spoke to my wife about the late-night encounter and in her usual way she managed to comfort my bruised ego with light-hearted jokes involving the matter. It wasn’t long before the idea of having unexpected neighbors found itself once again in the back of my mind, accepting that our adoring cats must have taken care of the issue. Life carried on, I started a new career, our children spent their days at school, and my off time was spent with my beloved enjoying as many horror films as we could manage to find within the plethora of streaming apps on our television. Once again, life settled back into a comforting normality.
Another consistent scratching awoke me in the middle of the night. However, it was different this time, almost as if the critter was right next to me. I could hear every movement it made, from the scratching at the wall to the pattering of its feet as it scurried back and forth across the inside of the wall. My heart pounded harder with each audible noise it made until I found myself in absolute horror as I pinpointed a second source of the noises, this time from the ceiling. There was more than one and I felt my world begin to swirl around me. Without so much as another thought, I found myself leaping to my feet and assaulting the ceiling in a flurry of smacks and punches in the hope of scaring it off. For whatever reason I could imagine it scratching its way through the ceiling as I was sleeping at night and the thought itself sent me into a whirlwind of emotion. After minutes of beating and banging my enemy away, I found myself once again in the solace of silence, settling on the idea of calling an exterminator in the morning.
The exterminator was able to show up at my home the same day I had called him, assuring me he would rectify the situation and I’d be able to sleep soundly that very night and the nights to come. I simply smiled and allowed the man to get to work. Only a couple hours later his job was done and he even had two trophies he had obtained from the attic space above my bedroom, presumably the ones I had witnessed the night before. I was overcome with glee and was truly looking forward to a night of good sleep.
I had all but entirely forgotten about the critters once again, the countless traps and baits the exterminator had used brought me a sense of ease. I figured I was in the clear until I was greeted by the sound of claws digging into the ceiling’s wood once again, right above my head. Staring in horror towards the tile I pinpointed responsible for the sounds, I felt my heart jump as I saw a claw break through the material. This was it, my greatest fear coming into fruition, this rat is about to come through the ceiling. Again assaulting the ceiling with as much physical abuse as I could, the noise from our attic dweller receded. Settling back into my spot on the bed I continued to watch for more sightings, little did I know I was about to get much more. The scratching resumed, this time coming faster and more consistent. Repeating my previous method proved ineffective as the rat continued to claw and chew its way into the tile, then it happened, I watched as its face appeared through the hole it had worked so hard to achieve. It almost looked as if it was smiling at me before I quickly snatched a remote from the bedside table and sent it sailing at the beast. Assuming it ran off into its dark corner of the attic, the noises stopped and I managed to drift off to sleep staring at the new hole in the ceiling.
Sharp pain in my stomach awoke me abruptly only a couple hours after I had just fallen asleep. The kind of pain that indicates something is seriously wrong. My wife awoke with my stirring and questioned me concerned. The pain would not allow for a proper response and I elected to repeatedly point to my stomach. She sat up and ran her hand along my torso, jumping from startle once she reached just above my naval. That’s when I felt it instead of hearing it this time, the scratching had returned.