I held little Optimus Prime close and let the tears fall. I didn't name her. That was her mother's fault. A severe addiction to opiates may also have had a hand to play in the naming process....and the conception. Anyway, the point is my unfortunately designated young daughter (she's also veering towards the grotesque in terms of physical appearance and odour) was upset, OK? I told her I'd be back before she knew it. Papa had to go to war, with a formidable opponent. I didn't know if I'd make it back in one piece.
I set off to war as a boy. I knew I would return a man....or not at all. My enemy? A fucking mouse. I named him Ollie, and he was an uppity dick.
Day 5
I saw him again. Arrogant bastard. He near enough skipped across my line of vision as I lay in wait. His sheer audacity paralysed me. I could swear that rodent stopped to wink at me. My senses ravaged by burgeoning hatred, my body numbed, my arms relaxed enough for the crossbow to slip from my hands and crash to the floor. With the impact, he seemed to think better of his indignant display. Like that, he was gone. Vanished. I snapped to and pulled my thoughts together.
*Note to self*- consider use of more practical weaponry.
*Note to self*- consider use of more practical weaponry.
Day 9
His cockiness overwhelmed me this morning. I could no longer bear the thought of the traps bringing about his downfall. I stepped in one myself. I wept openly. I am convinced that he relocated it. This kill is personal. I withdrew the hunting knife from its sheath.
I set fire to the traps.
Day 11
Still hoping to salvage what was left of the flat's east wing, in light of the catastrophic damage done when the fires spread beyond my control. I know there is little to be foraged from the desolate zone. If I didn't know better, I would say he used the minute haze of smoke to spark his own incendiaries. Remaining, untarnished supplies are limited.
I set fire to the traps.
Day 11
Still hoping to salvage what was left of the flat's east wing, in light of the catastrophic damage done when the fires spread beyond my control. I know there is little to be foraged from the desolate zone. If I didn't know better, I would say he used the minute haze of smoke to spark his own incendiaries. Remaining, untarnished supplies are limited.
Day 15
What was that about my momma!? He's mocking me!
Day 16
He was not working alone. He has allies. I had narrowed down his location. He was living in the kitchen. This was where I would set up camp. Come the 13th hour of today's operations, I caught sight of my foe. He seemed wounded. I abandoned my tent and crawled slowly, yet assuredly, toward him. I raised the knife to strike....then I heard it. I turned. My tent was on fire. It was a trap. I'd been raptored. And with that, the rodent who had baited me in withdrew from the scene before I had opportunity to wreak my revenge. My paltry revenge.
All is lost. I am sorry, Optimus.
All is lost. I am sorry, Optimus.
Day 19
The reality of my situation grows more evident with each passing day, each lonely hour, each shivering minute. I am not the hunter. I am the hunted. I am acutely aware that the strange sounds I have been hearing from the recesses of this kitchen are ominous. The hopeful shreds remaining in my person tell me that these are nothing to worry about. The realist in me knows that the mice are constructing a hovercraft. It is only a matter of time before they equip it with a nuclear arsenal, the like of which would bring gods to trembling knee.
Day 21
They mock me in their propaganda. They offer odds on the outcome.
500-1) I emerge victorious
100-1) An uneasy truce develops
33-1) Murder-suicide pact
7-2) Mice seize the charred remnants of the flat
5-4) I fall on my keys and incapacitate myself
These mice are pricks.
Day 23
500-1) I emerge victorious
100-1) An uneasy truce develops
33-1) Murder-suicide pact
7-2) Mice seize the charred remnants of the flat
5-4) I fall on my keys and incapacitate myself
These mice are pricks.
Day 23
I cannot feel anything below my waist. I fear my time is running out. I was foolish to have placed my keys in that pocket.
Day 24
They tell me I babbled incoherently as they pulled me to the snow dusted streets outside. The shell of the flat crumbled around us. They doubt my tales. My fantastic stories too real for them to stomach. The fools! The mice! The mice shall destroy us all!
Day 24
They tell me I babbled incoherently as they pulled me to the snow dusted streets outside. The shell of the flat crumbled around us. They doubt my tales. My fantastic stories too real for them to stomach. The fools! The mice! The mice shall destroy us all!
Day 27
I'm feeling much better now. The nurses have been kind. Lilly has listened patiently as I recant my tortured chronicle. She believes me. I know she does. She's written it all down on her clipboard. She gave me a lovely jacket to keep me warm. The sleeves are quite restrictive, At least the rodents cannot reach me in my new room. I can rest here, against the cushioned walls. I'm safe. And when I have recuperated, Lilly tells me they will let me out to bring about an end to this conflict.
I'm feeling much better now. The nurses have been kind. Lilly has listened patiently as I recant my tortured chronicle. She believes me. I know she does. She's written it all down on her clipboard. She gave me a lovely jacket to keep me warm. The sleeves are quite restrictive, At least the rodents cannot reach me in my new room. I can rest here, against the cushioned walls. I'm safe. And when I have recuperated, Lilly tells me they will let me out to bring about an end to this conflict.
Daddy's coming home soon, Optimus!
Day 43
I hear squeaking!
Day 43
I hear squeaking!
