The mice advanced.

There were a couple dozen of the small white mice, and dotted between them were brown mice, twice the size. Twice the size of tiny is still small, but their teeth were already a size that was no joking matter.

Shivers run up my back. There’s a particular feeling when man finds that nature overturned the tables. My ‘intelligent’ brain was convinced that mice were not dangerous – they were much too small, and they could barely pierce my skin. At worst, my day to day reasoning considered them dirty plague bearers.

But as the mice approached, unafraid, baser instincts were starting to raise their ugly head in me. When an animal doesn’t run, it means they consider you a food source.

The original mouse stopped his call, looking mighty pleased with himself. He gave one final squeak and started to circle me, joining the horde which formed an unmoving barrier of vermin. A circle of red eyes, staring me down. Waiting.

Out of the darkness came a rat, and what a rat. I’ve never been to New York, but I’m sure this rat could compete with their best. The size of a trophy dog, with a strong and fat body.

He let out a mocking shriek, and left his mouth open, as if laughing at me. His incisors were wicked sharp, a bone trap.

I was starting to consider if this was the fun after life adventure I thought it was. I spread my arms, finding my balance, and started to shove away small pebbles with my feet. My main advantage was my height. These vermin will have to climb on top of me to do any real damage, so staying mobile was key.

The rat let out a sharp shriek, and the encirclement collapsed on me. I was ready, striding toward one part of the circle and kicking out, catching out a bigger brown mouse in a classic football kick. The mouse was sent afloat, crumpling when he hit the wall, an audible crunch sounding out as his bones broke.

I was too caught up in staring, and the mice reached my other foot, climbing and biting every toe they could. I strode forward and kicked again, swiping off mice that stuck on my feet with violent flailing of my hands. When the mice got hit by my hands, they went flying just as well as the foot-launched ones did, puny bodies crashing into walls. My strength kept suprising me, and most of the mice thrown off did not stand up again, or limped feebly on broken limbs.

I was Goliath, and there was no David. Gulliver scaring the town folk. I was having fun, jumping from foot to foot and and smashing hapless rodents. I accidentally put my foot down on a mouse, and the poor creature squelched, his bones broken by my weight.

Ew, but effective. I stamped my foot on another mice which wasn’t fast enough to escape, and his fate was the same. Squelch.

Maybe I should feel bad about enjoying rat squishing, maybe. But I was having the time of my life till my foot suddenly collapsed under me with sharp pain, unable to bear my weight.

I dropped to the floor and stared with horror at my leg. The big rat clung to it, incisors stuck firmly inside my achilles. He released his teeth from my ankle, and I could see he has pierced cleanly through the tendon. shrieking at me, he rushed at my face, running on my body.

Oh god. There was a David here. The town folk brought ropes. The rest of the mice were starting to climb on me, too. I struck wildly my hands, fending them off, and the big rat dodged my swipes and lunged at my neck. I managed to catch him, and he sunk his teeth into my hand as I took hold of him.

I ignored the pain and squeezed, sticking his teeth even further into my hand. I maintained my death grip with one hand while warding the mice with the other.

It’s a stress ball, I told myself - a gripper. I turned my eyes away and squeezed the thing like a damn lemon. I heard a loud snap, and the rat’s clawing and incessant squirming ceased as his neck broke. I let go, and he was stuck on my hand, holding from his teeth.

It took a bit more mice flinging, but the horde died out. The final rabid attackers I grabbed one by one and smashed on the floor.

I took in the scene, panting. Smashed mice corpses littered the floor, and I was covered with scratch and bite marks .

My achilles was pierced through, the rat’s teeth attacking the weakest section on my ankle – that’s the bit of flesh right beyond the tendon itself. The rat itself was on my hand, teeth stuck to the center of my hand. I extracted him gingerly, wincing at the doubled pain.

His incisors were terrifyingly sharp, almost needles at their points. That was no normal rat teeth, oh no. They would put to shame snake fangs with their sharpness.

My wounds weren’t bleeding too bad, but god knows what diseases this mice had. I took my shorts off, careful not to upset my wounded ankle.

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I cut my shorts with the rat fangs. I marveled at how easily the fangs pierced the cloth, but still it took a while, as cutting cloth with a primitive needle instead of scissors isn’t easy, but I managed.

After binding my wounds I carefully got to my feet, putting weight on the injured foot. The foot screamed in pain, and I started to slowly shuffle away, rat corpse in hand. A pseudo knife was useful, even if it meant I needed to carry a dead rat around.

My mood started to sour as I walked in pain. I was dirty, wounded, and still had a headache. Some afterlife. I must have been quite a sight, limping along with a dead rat in my hand, bright blue bindings on my wounds.

I dimly reflected on the possibility of just sitting down, and waiting till something found me. There must be some civilization here, I reasoned. This tunnel looked natural, but the metal room I woke in was definitely not.

The thoughts of another mice horde finding me kept me going, hoping to find something, anything.

What I found was the sound of flowing water. I picked up my pace, limping as fast as I could. Soon, I reached a cave which opened up, a small pool in the middle of it. Another tunnel crisscrossed mine, this one with water still flowing in its channel.

I rushed to the water and drank, before starting to clean my wounds. The water was clear and sweet, chilly but not cold. Perfect. I was absorbed in washing, making sure every last part of the wounds were clean and as clear as they could be from disgusting rat diseases. I stuck my foot into the water to clean it better, uncaring about dirtying the water.

That was a mistake, as soon something small and sharp attacked my calf. Looking down, I discovered a small snake, attached to my foot. His scales were a dark blue, camouflaging him in the pool.

I yelped and grabbed him, jerking him off my foot. The beast tried to bite my hand then, but I threw at the ground, then smashed it with the rat corpse, piercing it. The snake died, but the damage was already done. Two small holes in my calf, and a dark fluid seeped from them. In the pool, I saw another form moving in my direction, hiding in the pool’s depth.

I climbed to my feet in a panic and limped as far as I could. Behind me, a snake slithered on shore, staring at me from a distance.

I have to escape, I thought. I was no longer fit to fight anything in this crazy place. Snakes in the water and murder rats everywhere else. Luckily, the snake didn’t follow, preferring the safety of his pool. As I stole glances behind me, I could see his form disappearing in the darkness, still staring at me.

I walked till he disappeared, then walked a few more minutes, just to be sure, then I collapsed, resting on the wall of the tunnel.

My calf was red and enflamed, purple with engorged blue veins where the snake bit me. As I watched, I could see veins farther from the wound grow blue, as my whole leg slowly turned a sick purple.

I lay my head back and sighed. I was done for. I could barely walk, and walk where? This whole place was a death trap.

I closed my eyes for a second, and now that I was resting I discovered how tired I was. Against my will, I drifted to sleep.

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My leg was burning.

I touched it and shied away, for touch was pain, searing pain that overwhelmed my senses. I clenched my hand, focusing on my fingernails digging in so I won’t cry out.

Why not cry out? I didn’t know.

All was pain. consciousness released me.

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I drifted, shaking awake with pain, then sleeping once more.

‘I’ll be good’ I begged. ‘I don’t need my gym. I’ll stay quarantined.’

My father turned to face me. His hair was blonde and the fat folds on his face merged with his neck. He was on the ground next to me, dragging his obese body.

‘I want every American to be prepared for the hard days that lie ahead,’ he said, the fat splitting to reveal a mouth of circular teeth.

‘How’s your diet, honey?’ asked my mother, from far above. I yearned to look at her, but could not. No matter how high I looked, she was higher.

‘Listen to your mother.’ Said my father, crawling closer. ‘You want to be thin, don’t you?’

My mother laughed, and it was the shriek of a rat.

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An angel’s face filled my vision. Black hair framed her face, which within golden eyes twinkled at me. I was feverish, sweaty and moaning in pain.

‘Help me’, I moaned at her, and she touched my forehead, saying nothing. Her hand was cool against my hot skin.

In her other hand she held a knife, and with a smile she slit my throat.

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Cold, harsh metal against my cheek. I woke with a gasp.