Old endings... new beginnings

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Chris awoke in the darkened motel room and screamed out in pain. The force of the bite caused him to whip back the cover. There, in the moonlight he saw it. A rat was attached to his foot and biting him with all the purpose in its soul. Chris kicked wildly but the rodent would not let go. Panicked, he jumped out of bed and grabbed his boot and began smashing the rat.

After several blows across its head, the vicious, little animal finally detached from his foot. But, rather than scurry off as Chris had expected, it stood its ground. Glaring at him, searching for another opportunity to attack.
"Get the fuck outta here!" Chris yelled trying to intimidate it but the rat just glared at him. It took a tentative step forward.
IMPOSSIBLE! Chris thought stepping back. Desperate, he threw the boot hitting the rat and stunning it but the rat shook off the blow. It bared its sharp, yellow teeth. Chris looked around for a weapon. The only thing in site was the large, old school alarm clock on the nightstand. He grabbed it, jerking the cord from the wall, just in time. The rat charged.

The rat was quick. It zigzagged past Chris' defenses and grabbed his toe between its teeth and began tearing at it. The rat made growling noises that he'd never heard from a rodent before. Chris had never heard before. Instantly, his body was seized by a cloak of pain. The rat was now ripping at his flesh, destroying his big toe. Chris slammed the clock down on the rat. Shocked, it wobbled away but escape was no longer an option. High off rage, Chris repeatedly smashed the pest over and over again until its inner organs were on display on the floor. Even then, Chris couldn't stop himself. He continued bashing it until it looked like a blood dampened slipper.

His adrenaline fading, the pain made itself known. It flooded every nerve ending in his body. When he looked down at his foot he nearly fainted. His big toe clung to his foot by a simple tag of skin. Blood was spurting from the wound and oozed across the floor in soft waves.

"I'm going to die." He said out loud to no one and nothing except or the dead rat he had tattooed on the motel floor.

The first thing that ran through his mind was Morgan. He had to call Morgan. He pulled her number up from his contacts in his cellphone and called her. The phone rang...and rang...rang.

The response was a text:


I know... but I need help... bleeding bad

What happened?


Bit by a rat. Plz help now





Ummk, otw

Barely conscious, Chris was on the floor leaning against the bed and staring at the fucking carcass of the rodent that had tried to amputate his foot. This was what it felt like to die he thought. It wasn't so bad really, just wasting away from the inside. Like draining a sink until there wasn't anything left but a damp basin.
"At least you beat me to it." He muttered to the rat. He had resolved himself to closing his eyes and fading away, when he heard footsteps on the other side of door.

Morgan. He thought hopeful. There was an impatient knock on the door.

"Is anyone in there?" The woman's voice asked. It wasn't Morgan.

"Yes! Help me please." Chris yelled the with last of his energy. The he blacked out. When he opened his eyes again, there was an Asian man and woman talking rapidly. The man slipped on a pair of bright yellow latex gloves and pulled a hospital mask over his nose and mouth. He gingerly grabbed the deceased rat, its long hairless tail and dropped it in a large, black trash bag.

"We're gonna get sued. We're gonna lose everything." The woman exclaimed.

"No, no," the motel owner said trying to claim her down. "Help me get up him up."

The last thing Chris felt before blacking out again was the man and woman on either side of him getting him to his feet.

* * *

Lucky to be alive, really.
Those were the first words Chris heard when he opened his eyes. The droplets jumped one at a time into the IV drip shooting down the tube seeping into his arm. He looked up into the blinding light that was quickly eclipsed by the doctor's face.

"How are you feeling Mr. Nocturne?" The doctor asked.

Chris opened his mouth but the words seemed trapped in the constriction of his throat.

"It's okay, you don't have to speak." He said. "You are a very lucky man. We weren't able to save your toe...but, the good news is that you will live."

Weren't able to save the toe? Chris blinked at the doctor. WHO WALKS AROUND WITHOUT A FUCKING BIG TOE! He thought. Immediately wondering if he would have been better off dead, but then he remembered he still had a penis... and things fell into perspective.

The doctor turned to leave then gave Chris a warm smile. "Losing two days in a hospital and a big toe is a small price to pay for another chance at life."

Chris closed his eyes.

Old endings... new beginnings.

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