(Chuck Wendig’s flash fiction challenge this week is to write a drabble — a story in precisely 100 words. Here’s mine, again written straight off the top of my head.)
The rats are on the run again.
It’s the third time tonight. Each time they come closer, each time the screams are a little louder.
He’d hoped they’d be sated by now. Most nights they’ve stopped by midnight. Sometimes it’s even safe to go to sleep while it’s still dark.
But they’ve been getting hungrier lately. They’re breeding faster, and most of the fatter people are already gone. Only the ones who can outrun them are still left.
The scratching starts. He goes to the door. Maybe it’ll be quicker if he lets them in.
He wonders if it will hurt.