Scares Not Too Scary: Story 2 – Plague of the Rats

Story 2 – Plague of the Rats

A messenger rat runs throughout the undercity knocking aside everyone in his way, some of which fall to their deaths. Eventually, he makes it to the very bottom of the tower, barrages into the meeting room, and immediately falls to the floor in respect of the leaders present.

“Vicar Sylvatic! Cardinal Ischemic, Archbishop Ascariasis! I bring news from the frontlines! We have lost ninety percent of the army including generals and warriors of renown,” the messenger says.

“Was General Sars among the casualties?” Ischemic asks.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, good,” Ascariasis says while laughing and clapping. “Our plan is proceeding exactly as we intended.”

“Combine our new soldiers with our existing army. Also, fill the vacant roles with our newly appointed and approved leaders. Hopefully, they’ll be more agreeable than the last. You are dismissed, messenger. Go down to the mess hall and tell the generals and other cardinals the news and our decision. Give them this letter that details who gets what position and tell them to give you the reward that the Holy Vicar has promised,” Sylvatic says.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, Vicar,” the messenger says before taking the letter from the vicar and then leaving.

“Our new underlings should be more trustworthy since they know why they have their jobs and who gave it to them,” Ischemic says.

“And these enhanced soldiers of yours, Ascariasis. Are you sure they are as strong as you claim?”

“Yes, they are. I’ve tested my mutations on myself as you can see.”

Sylvatic takes his bladed staff and cuts off Ascariasis’ four arms and his modified head which has multiple eyes and mouths.

“I meant to see their strength. Don’t play coy with me.”

The decapitated rat’s body recomposes itself in seconds much to the surprise of Ischemic and the pleasure of Sylvatic.

“See? It does work. I knew you would cut me up so I allowed myself to so I could provide the best demonstration.”

“How self-sacrificing of you.”

“Do you want to know how I could hear you despite not having a head?”

“Tell me later. Right now, I just want to take back what is rightfully mine, the Holy City of Constantinople.”

The three rats leave the meeting room and go to the large mess hall where hundreds of thousands of rats are eagerly awaiting their command to deploy. Sylvatic steps up to his podium with his two seconds-in-command behind him and on a lower platform.

“My faithful pack, we are on the verge of taking what is rightfully ours. The surface world thinks we are nothing but mutated vermin who deserve to live in our nuclear wasteland. I say that we are, in fact, blessed. What is called the Great Treachery by them has given us most of the eastern lands that are suitable for us and has transformed our bodies into ones that can survive not only harsh weather and these dangerous lands but also survive blows that would kill a normal human. Today, we will claim our divine inheritance and through it, begin our conquest of the world. With me, your holy vicar to lead you, we will know no defeat while our enemies will know only fear!”

Every rat, including Ascarisasis and Ischemic, cheers at Sylvatic’s speech before following his command to charge toward the surface. The rats come pouring out like a black tidal wave of disease. From below, siege cannons are carried on the backs of monstrous rats the size of elephants and manned by smaller rats to fire and maintain it and the beast. Carts driven by horse rats come racing out with the troops all of which carry specialized and veteran soldiers and large ancient church bells that signal their enemies’ doom. One of these carts all the way in the back is decorated with gold, carries Sylvatic, Ascarisasis, and Ischemic, and is the most well-protected as it is plated with well-refined metal. Meanwhile, the slaves and lower-class warriors have to run alongside the carts and monstrous rats. Their mutations allow them to keep up with the army, however, it still isn’t pleasant for them, especially since they have to run for miles across the ashen nuclear wasteland.

After traveling for half a day, the army reaches the fortified ruins of Constantinople. The force of orcs that currently owns it is made aware of the approaching rats by their lookouts and the entire population, even the children and elderly are mobilized to fight except for those who are too sick or fragile to fight. From the makeshift metal and stone walls of Constantinople, the orcs fire their bows and cannons. Most of the rat army stops so they are out of range of the orc’s attacks, but the slave army continues moving and is wiped out before a single one reaches the walls. With what seems to be most of their enemy’s forces dead, the orcs cheer and dare the rats to send the last of their forces at them.

“Stupid orcs. Stupid, stupid orcs. They know not the doom they have inflicted upon themselves,” Ascarisasis says.

“Show them then the fruits of your labor,” Sylvatic says.

“All cannons, load up my concoction and fire it at the corpses of the slaves!”

The cannons on the backs of the monstrous rats are loaded with glass balls filled with black and green liquid that are fired at the corpses as commanded. Once the concoction hits the corpses, they begin to mix together into separate and hideous beings with the heads of multiple rats, bones jutting out of their bodies like blades, and multiple tails. These rats are larger than even the rats that are carrying the cannons and writhe as if they are in excruciating pain. This sight terrifies some of the orcs with some of them retreating before being killed by their own for their cowardice. Sylvatic steps out from his cart and stands on its roof.

He slams down his staff and says, “Charge and take what is rightfully mine! What is rightfully ours!”

As the rat army cries out, the large hideous mutated rats run ahead of the army and take much of the attention of the orcs, and are mostly unaffected by their attacks. The towering rats smash through the walls as if they were nothing and proceed to kill and eat whoever else they find while causing chaos in the city. Before the army behind them enters the city, the bodies of the monstrous rats violently convulse and then explode with acid coming out that melts everything and everyone it touches except for the rats. Once the carts reach the walls, the soldiers come out and lay siege to the city with the rats with cannons on the back pelt the city’s inner defenses with cannon fire and don’t stop firing even as their own forces advance and get hit by friendly fire. Sylvatic, Ascarisasis, and Ischemic watch their forces fight and slaughter the orcs from a safe distance from one of the churches, the Hagia Sophia.

“It’s glorious, isn’t it?” Ascariasis says.

“It is. I’m just glad the monsters you created are dead,” Ischemic says.

“What? You don’t think we could control them? They followed their orders exactly as we intended. If that’s not enough, the rats with cannons are also perfectly in control of their actions.”

“I’m not sure if the more monstrous ones did as we commanded because we commanded them or because they did so out of self-defense.”

“Regardless, these units will always be used for the purposes you have seen, so they will only be alive for minutes at most.”

“If you say so.”

“You should trust me more, just as the good vicar does. Speaking of which, how are you enjoying the show?”

Sylvatic cuts off one of Ascarisasis’ outreaching hands that soon regenerates before he says, “I have waited years for this. Do not disturb me as I drink in the glory of this moment that I deserve.”

“You deserve? I think we all share in the glory of this momentous victory,” Ischemic says. “My hardened soldiers and handmade cannons and carts are the final piece in the puzzle of our achieving victory. You can see from here that they’re overwhelming the final stronghold in the city and finish off what remains of the orc’s army. If you only relied on Ascarisasis, you’d be without troops because they rely on formulas and experiments whereas I rely on strength and steel.”

“Without my formulas and experiments, we would’ve lost more forces breaking through the walls and the city’s first lines of defenses. I think I should be given most of the glory if we’re fighting over it. Battles are decided in the opening moves after all.”

“If you want to bring up opening moves, then I should gain all the glory above both of you,” Sylvatic says with venom in his voice and while slamming down his staff. “I bring all our servants under one cause. I am the head of the Church and the one who gives us a purpose, and a plan and dictates the laws. Without me, you would be fighting among yourselves with no real plan and overall goal and the orcs and other rat clans would wipe you out.”

The three rat leaders look at each other with hatred in each other’s eyes until one messenger rat comes to them and bows down.

“Sirs, we’ve taken the Holy City. All that remains left to do is plunder it, make it our own, and deal with the captives and remaining citizens,” the messenger says.

“Gather the captives and citizens. We and our soldiers are all famished from such a taxing battle and should have our fill and leave none remaining from the city at the same time,” Sylvatic decides.

“Yes, sir.”

After having their fill of their enemies, the three leading rats think they can come to a compromise, settle their differences, and calm the tension between them, however, the tensions worsen when they have to split the plunder and decide who gets what part of the city. While they are debating, they come to a temporary compromise to have basic defenses set up by their slaves from the underground city. Two days pass and no progress is made. In fact, the three rats hate each other more now than before to the point where Sylvatic cuts down Ascarisasis. Instead of taking it this time, the decapitated rat fights back and cuts off a leg and arm of the victory despite missing a head of his own.

Seeing an opportunity to take power for himself, Ischemic joins in the fight but is also cut down as well. Now that the fight is at a standstill, the three rats see that both are regenerating their limbs and that no normal blade or weapon will kill them, so they stop fighting.

“You both injected yourselves with my formula?” Ascariasis asks as if flattered.

“Yes, I did. I saw that it worked and wanted to use it just in case,” Ischemic admits.

“You do good work despite your idiocy, so I can’t say your pride is completely misplaced,” Sylvatic says.

“I can say the same about you.”

“I can say the same about both of you.”

All three rats laugh and then admit to a truce.

Sylvatic goes on to say, “We have enough enemies as it is from the orcs, elves, other rats, and whatever else that survives in this wasteland. Once they and the humans are out of the way, we can see who is the strongest and who should be the master of the world and all humanity. For now, we shall work together for each other’s benefit as one united trinity.”

The other two rats agree before they all shake hands. A messenger rat barrages into their meeting room to tell them news of internal conflict and a wave of enemy rats allied with orcs coming their way. They shrug before mustering what forces they can as the enemy force throws itself against their walls. As the battle is happening, Sylvatic stands above his two peers and watches the battle with them. Slaves from the inner walls are thrown over and at the enemy and the groups of slaves that are killed by the enemy are dosed with Ascarisasis’ concoction and turn into monsters that push back the attack and blow themselves up after a few minutes and shower the enemy with body melting acid that only their own allies are immune to. As the battle is happening, the three leaders enjoy the finest blood wine that they harvested from their captives and lay back as if it were a relaxing Sunday morning.

“Life is good, isn’t it?” Ascariasis says.

“It is. It looks like our forces will soon overrun our enemies. Let us toast to our victory and future victories,” Ischemic says before they toast. “Waiters, bring us more wine. Also, bring out our entertainment.”

The waiters do as they are told and bring wine and rat exotic dancers out to the leaders that would be considered uglier than sin to a sane human, but to a rat immersed in sin, they are as beautiful as diamonds.

“Yes, this is the life and it will only get better,” Sylvatic says as he comfortably lays back in his chair.