The rats were everywhere. I saw them on every street corner, and in every store. They invaded my eyes, and my ears, and my mouth. They rolled over me on the ground and climbed up my chest. Every square inch of my body felt like a rodent mat, which was terrible. I tried my best to evade the rats, but without fail, they became more and more aggressive. Every time I tried to get away, they would be waiting. I kept trying to find an opening in the densities of rats. Their speeds were terrifying. I barely had a chance to move before they were on me. My mind was a fucking ice skating rink. Then I seemed to be on the ledge of a tall building.
I was watching the sky through my fingers when I looked down. I saw a dark cloud drift over the city, and I was no longer hungry. I pushed the whole thing down, that strange hunger. This made me stop hating myself, I loved it so much. The same thing had happened to Betty again. “Hey, come on,” said a soft voice. It wasn’t very far off, so I quickly put my backpack back on and walked towards it. There was no response to that, however. “Hey… watch out,” said a faint voice. “You gonna see a load of murder inside,” came the muffled voice. I saw my reflection in a mirror and promptly became a red looking skeleton of doom.
It took me a second to process what had happened, to calm down. I kept walking towards the girl, and as I got closer, I realized she was just an ordinary girl, not some writhing mound of man-eating rats. She was tall and thin and had big long hair sticking out the back of her head. Human hair, instead of much fur emanating from a rancid rat pile. I wonder how long she’d been there. She seemed completely harmless and friendly, so I decided to talk to her.
At first, I was too nervous to actually talk, so I just stood there with my mouth open. The girl looked up from her book and blinked. She noticed me and looked around at the gift shop before nodding to acknowledge my existence. She looked like a very pleasant, happy and friendly young woman, and not in the creepy, creepy way that Creepy Larry was. So I kept talking to her, even offering her a Kleenex. She accepted, thanked me and said that she’d be back in a minute. She was quite chatty after she left, and was with me for the whole entire ride home, so I guess it was a good lesson.
I got home and talked about the experience with my sister, Betty, and I realized we weren’t the only people who’d had this kind of experience. There was a very active discussion about it on another forum I frequent where Creepy Larry was discussed, and others on my Facebook friend list had had similar encounters. Needless to say, I’ll never go to Creepy Larry’s Hallucinogenic Rat Castle again.
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