My name doesn't matter

Part 5

I felt myself being hoisted upward by my backpack.  The straps dug into my armpits.  I kept my eyes tightly shut.  My dad used to scoop me up in a similar way when I was really little, but his arms didn't pull on my skin.  The feeling of my feet leaving the ground made my stomach summersault in fear.  Whatever was lifting me had to be huge.

I jerked to a hault.  It was a similar feeling to when the rollercoaster lurches to a stop at the top of the hill.  All the fear settled itself in my chest.  I let one of my eyes open a little and saw nothing in front of me.  I felt my body turning to the left and swallowed hard.

"And who might you be?"  Asked a voice from above me.

"Trips." I stammered.

"Hmm."  The voice replied.  "What are you doing in Mother's territory?"

"I was running away from Darren."  I said.

Silence.

"I'm lost now."

More silence.

"I'm sorry that I came into your part of the woods."

"It isn't my part of the woods, Trips."  The voice, obviously male, said.

"Mother's part of the woods."  I corrected.

Silence, again.

I didn't want to say anything else.  I was worried that I would get myself into more trouble.  There was something moving beneath me, and I decided to look down.  That was a mistake.  The forest floor was farther away than I expected.  I was higher up than my bedroom, which was on the second floor of my parents' house.  I wanted to vomit.

Directly below me was the rat man.  An arrow grew out of the top of his head, and a pool of blood soaked the leaves arouns him.  The smell of it must have attracted the animals, because I could see something moving between the trees.  It was a "horse."  This one was wild and untamed.

I couldn't look away as it began to gnaw at the rat man.  It rolled him over until it could get at his belly and quickly opened him.  It looked like it had unzipped a backpack filled with sausages.  The "horse" pulled at them and strung them out from the body, only he hadn't died yet.  That was when whatever life was left in him surged forward and began to flail.

His arms wheeled, and he bucked and squirmed.  Small, weak gasping sounds came from him before he began moaning in agony.  The moans got louder as his movements grew weaker.  Finally, he gurgled out a scream and went limp.  The "horse" never stopped eating.