Cave Rats

He marched boldly out of his hole, a dark and smelly concealment of filthy lanes. The stench would have driven even a bug away but these scavengers roamed freely. It was their world and they ruled it their way.

Crown was the leader. He was big, strong and fast. His velvet fur almost seemed elegant but what made him different from the rest of the pack was his articulate crave for scent. He could smell anything and his conclusions were always apt; never doubted.

"I can smell ya' dirty lies. If ya' have been out on Rattery Hills. Them stinkin' high class rats. We come from East End. So we stay here. This is the rule." He warned all the curious minds who probably wanted so much to see beyond the melodorous back alleys.

"Tony said the other side has fresh cheese and even cats talk to rats."

"But Tony is dead. Dead because he deserved to be."

Carl had been listening carefully to each and every word. In his heart he felt the adventures that Tony must have experienced. Not only Tony but Salsa, Corn, Baba and even the once shy and timid Morky. They would have been and lived like a rat. A true rat and not a cave rat.

Yes, the back street rats were known as cave rats partly because they were primitive but mainly because they believed that nothing existed outside, that could give them self-worth. In the cave, they were save and protected. They will always be food fetched from drains and bins. Outside, everything was risky. They didn't like to take risks.

However, once in a while there will be a Tony or Salsa and now Carl who dared to dream, dared to take risks and willed himself outside; only to be martyred by Crown later.

"Ya' stinkin' little bastard. I told ya not to go out. But ya' ain't listening to Crown here."

Carl shivered. He stooped down and looked at Crown's gigantic feet and his dragon tail curled up in flame. He shivered again as he felt Crown's breath at his neck. He was hooked to the ground and Crown's stainless steel claws stuck through his delicate paws causing them to bleed.

"But you have not..." Carl's voice trailed off with his guts as he tried to speak up.

"What? Ya' stinkin' bastard's talking back?"

Without hessitation, Crown chewed into Carl's throat.

Carl opened his eyes and looked straight into Crown's ferocious pupils. He saw nothing but his pathetic reflection.

Hang on, he saw something else. He saw flowers, green grass, trees, birds, a fresh slice of cheese, bread and a beautiful female rat from Rattery Hills smiling at him. How he made friends with a kitten and that they drank from the same bowl of milk.

Carl knew that Crown has never seen any of these. He only ate stinking bread and drank stale milk and forever will be.