The hour was growing near.
The sky was pitch black.

One of the women took off her rat mask
and kneeled.

She stared up at the moon
with arms raised
as if she were praying.

The other women
watched
as the axe came down
over and over again.

A fountain of redness spewed
from the stumps.

Through the blackness,
loud squeaking noises began to intertwine
with the horrifying screams
from the still breathing pulp,

As the fat rats wobbled
to their dinner.

-Kim Elizabeth

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