The rats are disappearing.
Hart Street had the biggest infestation in London. We knew that before we moved in—it’s why the house came at such a low price. But we needed somewhere to lay low, so I assured the Professor we could deal with it. I’ve dealt with worse.
Still, my skin still crawled every time one of the wretches poked out its filthy head.
“Chin up, Margaret.” The Professor had rubbed his hands together. “These insects won’t last long!”
Sure enough, it’s been barely a fortnight and I haven’t seen a rat in days.
“Providence, I call it!” Our elderly neighbor, Mrs. Elwood says. She cradles the mangiest cat I’ve ever laid eyes on, all ragged ginger fur and a tail that looks broken in three places.
“It’s certainly a relief,” I sigh.
“Indeed.” Mrs. Elwood nods. “At the very least, it’s given Abraham a break from all their scratching.”
She hugs the cat tighter and it growls. I wonder how such a skinny thing could have killed so many rats.
But then a week later, I’m returning from the grocers when I hear muffled sobbing drifting through our neighbor’s open window.
I hesitate only a moment before curiosity gets the better of me.
“Mrs. Elwood?” I knock on the door. She answers almost instantly.
“Oh, Margaret!” The woman grabs my arm. “Something’s eaten Abraham!”
It takes me a moment to remember that Abraham is the cat.
“Eaten?” I repeat. “Are you sure he didn’t just run away?”
Mrs. Elwood frantically shakes her head. “It was some kind of monster!”
My blood runs cold.
“A… monster?” I hesitate to ask. “What makes you think that?”
“I heard him hiss and yelp, and then he was gone! Vanished!” Mrs. Elwood’s bony fingers dig into my arm. “First it was the rats, and now it’s my cat! I’m telling you, girl, something truly horrible is prowling these streets!”
I swallow past my dry throat and try to back away.
“I… I’m sorry about Abraham.” But my words sound hollow in my ears.
“Thank you, dear.” Mrs. Elwood tries to smile. “See that you stay safe! You stick with the Professor, and you’ll be right as rain.”
I almost choke. There’s no way she could know… could she?
With some effort I manage to tear myself from Mrs. Elwood’s grip, and I force myself to not run into my house. But when the door is shut I drop the groceries, hiking up my skirts as I rush down the hall, barely sparing a knock before bursting into the Professor’s study.
A mass of tentacles sways forward to greet me, floating throughout the room and blinking dozens of round, bulging eyes. For the first time in weeks, I manage not to gasp at the sight of them. If anything, I just feel annoyed and wave away one that drifts too close to my face.
“Ah, Margaret!” The tentacles shift to reveal Professor Kettlewell’s stout human body, poised over his desk on the other side of the study. He turns and smiles. “Come in, come in! I had a question about a term your father used in this note.”
A million thoughts whirl through my head, but what I blurt is, “Professor, did you eat a cat?”
He stills, many eyes blinking in unanimous confusion. “Remind me again what a cat is?”
“Small and furry,” I explain. “Particularly one that was ginger—it was Mrs. Elwood’s. She says she heard him cry out and then he was gone.” I pace in front of the door. “She thinks… well, she claims that…” I can barely get the words out. “She says a… monster ate him.”
The Professor opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. “Are… are cats not for consumption?”
I clap a hand over my mouth. “Oh, good Lord.” I sink into a chair. “You did eat a cat!”
The Professor slowly retracts his tentacles until they disappear behind his back.
“It seems I’ve made a mistake.” He taps his fingers together nervously. “But… wasn’t it just an insect?”
“No!” My voice jumps two octaves in mortification. “It was an animal! A pet!”
I keep forgetting that Professor Kettlewell has a very different view of life on Earth. It took me weeks just to get him to stop referring to humans as “wildlife.”
“An animal then,” he acknowledges. “But I thought humans consumed animals?”
“Not cats!” I scrub my hands over my face. “What on Earth possessed you to eat one?”
The Professor wrinkles his nose. “First of all, I didn’t ‘eat’ it. I atomized it. There’s a difference.” He clasps and unclasps his hands. “And if you must know, it was a wretched thing, always hissing and sputtering whenever I went near it.”
I wait for him to explain further, but he remains silent. “Let me get this straight. You didn’t like it, so you just… ate it?”
He spreads his hands. “You didn’t like the rats, so I just assumed—”
I gasp. “You’ve been eating them too?”
The Professor sighs. “Atomized, Margaret. I simply absorbed their atoms. And anyway, I’m a space-dwelling Horror from the other side of the universe. Your human food isn’t enough to satiate me.”
I swallow my disgust and try to regain composure. “From now on, ask me if something is alright to eat. Atomize. Whatever. Just… ask me, please?”
Professor Kettlewell examines his hands, then sighs. “Understood.”
“And we have to replace Mrs. Elwood’s cat. She really needs the company.”
The Professor makes a face but nods. “I suppose I could locate one.”
A silence follows, and I realize he’s waiting to ask a question. “What is it?”
“How about the rats?”
I close my eyes and take slow, even breaths. “The rats are… okay for you to… atomize.” At least I won’t have to deal with the wretched things.
“Excellent.” The Professor rubs his hands. “Because there’s certainly enough here for a feast.”
I shudder.
A feast of rats.