He knew something bad had happened to his youthful
companion but he’d scarce expected the news the search parties returned with. He
refused to believe it until he’d seen the body himself but, once he had, there
was no chance they were mistaken. Tuffy was as dead as a rodent could be.
Jerry stood over the broken body and wept bitter tears
for the senselessness of it. Was a single morsel of cheese worth the lad’s
life? For naught more, his protégé had been killed. Jerry’s thoughts were fixed
on how damned cute the kid had been… scampering about with such unbridled,
youthful enthusiasm.
With a sob, he reflected on how it was anything but
cute to see the wee fellow with his neck snapped, eyes staring with disbelief
that life could be snatched away from him just that quickly. The final indignity
of it all was, in death, he’d fouled his diaper and the fetid aroma of feces
and death hung thickly in the air.
Jerry turned from the body, tears burned from his eyes by
sheer, unbridled fury. He knew the others looked to him for answers, for a
response.
“What do we do? What
do we do, you ask? We find the ones who did this and we make them pay. We make
them pay with the same brutality they visited upon this innocent. We start with
that bastard, Tom, and don’t stop until blood runs and this house is, once and
forever, acknowledged our undisputed domain!”
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