RATTIC

(c) Mark D. Holt
 
 

The tale begins
on the edge of a moor,
in a big old house
with a great wooden door.

Alone on a hill
with nothing standing near,
it casts a black shadow
and radiates fear.

Its windows are dark
with thick, grey dust,
the interior rank
with mould and must.

Up narrow stairs
where floorboards creak,
in the vacant rooms
rats do sleep.

High in the rafters
bats come to rest,
and beneath them
something else does nest.

A sleek brown form
that lives in the attic,
a monstrous creature
whose name is Rattic.

Small animal bones,
the remains of a feast,
adorn the lair
of this mutant rat-beast.

With teeth like razors
and claws like knives,
he surveys the darkness
with burning red eyes.

Rodents and cats
are his usual prey,
sometimes a small dog
but not this time, not today.

Outside now
the rain does fall,
and along the drive
a car does crawl.

The vehicle pulled up
with barely a sound,
inside sat a man
and beside him, a hound.

As the man got out
the dog began to growl,
whilst through the house
the wind did howl.

Approaching the building
he unlocked the door,
and as it opened
there was a harrowing roar.

Just the wind
the young man said,
ignorant of the danger
that lay ahead.

In the darkness
Rattic did shift,
for the scent of prey
in the air he had sniffed.

Walking through the halls
the man entered a room,
when out of the shadows
a horror did loom.

Turning about,
in terror he cried,
the rat-beast, in an instant
was by his side.

The monster's prey
fled down the hall,
but under Rattic's weight
the man did fall.

With gleaming claws
the beast hacked and slashed,
and the old plastered walls
with blood were splashed.

Outside, in the car
the dog did fret,
sensing the peril
his poor master had met.

In a frenzy he howled
and jumped about,
catching the handle
the door swung out.

Straight to the house
the hound did run,
until the creature's lair
he had come.

With a grating snarl
he leapt through the air,
into Rattic's flesh
his teeth did tear.

The struggle was long
with the splintering of bone,
dog protecting master,
beast defending home.

All through the house
the battle did rage,
smashing the walls
which crumbled with age.

The monster caught the hound
with a scything blow,
from the wound
much blood did flow.

But the dog struck back
pinning Rattic to the wall,
then to the ground
they both did fall.

A long time passed
before the struggle did stop,
and the rat-beast retreated
to it's dank roof-top.

The big black hound
through blood and pain,
dragged his limp master
out into the rain.

With agonising effort
the man reached his car phone,
and with rasping breath
did call his home.

A short while later
help did arrive,
to find the beast's victim
barely alive.

Policemen came
to search for the thing,
and with dogs and guns
went cautiously in.

In every dark corner
torches were shone,
but the house was empty,
the creature had gone.

Where he went,
nobody seemed to care,
but some believe
he had found a new lair.

So if you hear movement
coming from your attic,
be very careful,
for it could be Rattic!
 

The End.