I hear them.
They are near.
In the ceiling.
Warden will not chase them like a cat. Regrette does not stir. I pull the covers up and up and hope that they will not chew on too much. What if the building is infested? What if behind these walls is another, moving wall? Squealing. The thought of it makes me shiver.
Maybe. Maybe what I need is a cat. A hungry cat. Starving. With sharp claws.
A killer. A ruthless murderer.
Two killers underneath one roof.
Maybe, that is the answer to this problem.
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