Rabid Okapis Slowly Maul Four Year Olds in a Department Store

This is a favor for my friend Matt.

Copyright Julia Bydulia.

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The roof was too low to stand and the room was too short to lay down.

Sigmond was laying on his back, cold and damp, his eyes closed against the ragged sensations caused by the room. He could hear footsteps over him and felt an uneasy rocking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

His mother was somewhere off in Ireland, eating the fruit flies he'd commandeered for her. He wondered if her teeth were still as razor sharp as they had been ten years ago.

The sun was shining somewhere else in the universe, far away from Sigmond.

The honey badgers were on their way. There was no escape.

His father was still in Russia, chewing on the bones of the innocent. Sigmond wondered who the bones belonged to. He wondered if he could kill a child so mercilessly.

His fingernails were twelve feet long. "Yes!" He cried, scratching them against the cement of the walls and the floor. "I'll build a restaurant in Paris!" The thrill of an escape filled him and he set to work on the restaurant. "The hamburgers will be exquisite!"

The honey badgers were getting closer. Their noses were twitching, and Sigmond knew that they thirsted for his blood.

"HAMBURGERS!" He cried out, the sound echoing off the walls and making his ears bleed. "HAMBURGERS!"