Kingdom of Rats

“Kingdom of Rats”

-For Harley, Chuba’s best friend and publisher-

Through squinting, ebony eyes, the goblin watched his rival swoop down upon the squealing prey. It was prey that should have been his.

A sudden screech escaped the rodent as the fat, stinking man’s gaff closed around the creature’s neck, followed by the resounding crack of breaking vertebrae. Chuba winced at the sound and let out a ragged gasp of alarm as his enemy perked up, casting a narrowed gaze towards Chuba’s hiding place. The goblin pressed his spidery body into the shadowed alcove as far as he could, pulling his ragged cloak tighter around him. He dare not breathe for the man’s gaff could be just as effective against a goblin’s neck.

Chuba knew that from experience.

The Rat Catcher, as he was known in this hovel of a city, watched the shadows for a long moment, his rank breath coming in deep wheezes through yellowed teeth. He waited, listening for any sound that might reveal an intruder in his domain. Chuba tensed up, beginning to turn an unhealthy shade of blue from lack of oxygen. As soon as the goblin thought he was about to die from self-affixation, The Rat Catcher turned his attention back to the dead rat and headed off further down the sewers in search of more.

As soon as the disgusting man disappeared from view, Chuba let out a long, raspy sigh and spent several moments catching his breath. He cursed softly in his own language; sounding very akin to the other denizens of the sewers he now lurked in. It was a place that was supposed to be his new home, his very own domain. A kingdom of limitless possibilities and most importantly, an endless supply of juicy, tender rats!

It was all supposed to be Chuba’s.

But the kingdom of Chuba’s dreams already had a king, a cruel tyrant who refused to share his domain’s bounty with anyone.

~~

Chuba’s first few days in the sewers had been paradise. He had spent countless hours capturing and gorging on the plump and easily caught rats that were everywhere. He had even set up a long, dried out sewage run-off chamber as the center of his new realm.

That was when The Rat Catcher, the true master of the sewers, had shown up and reclaimed what Chuba had taken from him.

Chuba’s first encounter with the overweight, greasy haired human had been unforgettable. Chuba had been sleeping, his belly and dreams full of tasty rodents dipped in honey. He had never slept so soundly…or awoken so abruptly as a length of wire slipped over his neck and was now strangling him. He had flailed about for what seemed to be an eternity, his gnarled hands groping about in the darkness for any means of salvation. As the world began to grow dark and all hope seemed lost, Chuba’s frantic grasp grabbed hold of something long and slimy. He pulled with all his remaining strength and the grasp of the wire slackened, followed by a bellow of pain and stammering curses. Chuba tugged and tugged, ripping out handfuls of grimy locks of hair from The Rat Catcher’s head. The man’s screams echoed down the sewers as he finally pulled his gaff free and fled into the darkness, leaving Chuba with a very sore neck and several tendrils of unwashed hair.

After that attack, Chuba had been on guard and took to sleeping and hunting in a new part of the sewers each night. He spied upon The Rat Catcher several times, watching and learning. The Rat Catcher was a large brute of a man, obese from his ceaseless feasting upon the flesh of rodents. He wore their pelts as his clothing and wielded his gaff, his only weapon beside tooth and nail, with frightening proficiency. The goblin would shadow him for hours at a time, listening to the unkempt human mutter to no one in particular and talk sadistically to the rats just before he squeezed the life out of them, whispering gleefully of their inescapable doom.

Chuba was afraid of him, afraid for his very life.

He managed to stay out of The Rat Catcher’s path but each night, the man haunted his dreams and made them into nightmares. He would strangle Chuba with his dreadful gaff and the goblin would awaken each night with his own hands around his throat and his screams echoing down the tunnels…

But Chuba was a survivor, a resourceful goblin who never gave up despite the odds. He would not let some filthy, half-witted and purely insane rat catcher claim his life and haunt his sleep! He would not be denied this wonderful haven of havens! It would be his!

For many days, Chuba pondered and thought of a plan. He rejected many before finally coming up with one that was foolproof.

He would turn The Rat Catcher’s own kingdom against him.

~~

During Chuba’s earlier adventures and his great escape from his former master, a mighty wizard named Danian, Chuba had acquired a few magical baubles that had served him well. One of them was a wand that granted him limited control over animals. Chuba had used the wand a few times before, when dog was the only thing on the menu for several leagues. Brandishing the simple oak wand in one hand and his rusty dagger in the other, Chuba moved down the tunnels, in pursuit of The Rat Catcher. Soon enough, he heard the mutterings of his enemy and the death squeal of his prey. Chuba took to the shadows and began to follow him.

He always stayed at least fifteen paces behind the skulking man, staying hidden in the shadows and moving as silently as his clawed feet would allow him. Years of remaining hidden served the goblin well for his rival did not look back once. For almost two hours, Chuba followed The Rat Catcher ever deeper into the sewers, moving towards the center of the underground labyrinth.

As the sour-smelling man turned a sharp corner, Chuba waited a few moments before continuing after. Some gut feeling told him something was wrong but he just pushed it aside for now. He inched forward on his belly and peered cautiously around the corner.

He saw nothing but the tunnel ahead and a dead end.

“Where he go?!” Chuba whispered, holding his dagger aloft. His beady eyes glanced back and forth, searching for his prey.

At that moment, the hunter became the hunted.

A sudden whiff of an unwashed body was the only clue of the descending rat catcher. His great bulk landed squarely on the crouching goblin, knocking the air out of Chuba and sending his dagger splashing into the fast flowing sewage. The man had somehow managed to wedge himself in an overhang five feet off the ground, catching Chuba completely unaware and defenseless. He had known that the goblin had been following him the whole time.

The shaft of his gaff, a good eight pounds of solid wood, came down hard on the unfortunate goblin’s skull, drawing a scream of pain from the pinned creature. Chuba could scarcely move beneath the man’s weight and was repeatedly pummeled by the gaff. The Rat Catcher cackled all the while, raining blow after staggering blow down on Chuba. He cried out desperately, struggling feebly to get free. Another blow made Chuba’s vision blur and he tasted blood, his blood, as the Rat Catcher-Turned-Goblin Catcher hit him savagely in the jaw.

“Ya shudda never come down ‘ere, goblin! Them’s is my home! Them’s my rats! Now you ginna die!” he wheezed loudly into Chuba’s ear, a broken-toothed grin threatening to consume the man’s face.

Chuba could only let out a muffled cry as the man’s dirty hand clamped down on his face, savagely twisting his head back and forth in an effort to snap his neck.

But goblin necks are notoriously hard to break. Ask any dwarf.

His vision blurred and face bloodied, Chuba suddenly realized his left hand was still grasping his wand. Hope surged forth as he used the last of his strength to bite down on The Rat Catcher’s hand and yell out the wand’s command word when The Rat Catcher pulled his bleeding hand away from Chuba’s mouth. Chuba’s tormentor bellowed in rage and knocked the wand away from his grasp, sending it into the sewage below. He lashed out with his fist, knocking the goblin into unconsciousness.

“That lil’ stick ain’t gonna save ya, Gobby! I’m gonna bash in yer brains!” The Rat Catcher exclaimed as he raised the gaff over his head for the final blow.

A distant rumbling then began to echo in the distance.

A great squeaking drowned out The Rat Catcher’s words and his eyes grew wide as he saw the source of the quickly approaching noise.

A literal wave of rats, of all different sizes, was charging down the tunnel, with white teeth gleaming in the meager light from the moonlight that streamed down from the grates overhead.

“Oh shit...!” was the only thing The Rat Catcher could mutter before his world dissolved in a wave of matted fur, gnashing teeth, and rat musk.

~~

The strong stench of rodents was the first thing Chuba became aware of as he awoke. He could only open his right eye, for his left eye was swollen shut from The Rat Catcher’s mighty blows.

He was lucky to be alive.

It was then that his vision focused enough for him to see the results of his wand’s powers.

Raspy laughter erupted from his cracked lips as he saw the still form of the fallen rat catcher, half buried beneath a lingering pile of rats. The rats were either sleeping atop the man, who smelled so akin to them, or crawling over him, covering him in what Chuba called “rat presents”.

Chuba struggled to his feet and the rats, still under the wand's charm spell, all turned as one and awaited their master’s orders. The stare of several hundred rodents was too unnerving for even Chuba and he nervously backed away, only to have them follow him. They matched him step for step as he hurriedly retreated down the corridor. He stopped and scratched his head. He had never known that he could control so many animals with just one click of the wand!

The wand…

Chuba searched feverishly for the object of his salvation but couldn’t find it in the swiftly moving sewage. Now soaked to his waist in other people’s waste, Chuba could feel the rage threatening to boil over as he looked at the still form of the man who had cost him so much.

The Rat Catcher, while bleeding from dozens of rat bites, was still breathing in shallow gasps and he muttered incoherently as Chuba approached. He spied the man’s gaff, the haft heavily gnawed but intact, a few feet away. The goblin picked up the weapon and determined that it was still useable. He clumsily slid the wire around The Rat Catcher’s filthy neck. The rats watched him through vacant eyes as he tugged on the gaff slightly, just enough to jerk his captive awake.

The Rat Catcher sat up immediately, his eyes full of fear from the hundreds of rats that now stared at him, waiting from their master to tell them to rip the man apart. He whimpered, knowing that he was now the one who was staring at inescapable doom.

Chuba tugged on the gaff heavily, sending The Rat Catcher into a fit of coughing and choking. Chuba laughed hoarsely at the beaten man but stopped almost as soon as he started.

Somewhere, deep inside himself, Chuba found that he pitied The Rat Catcher.

It was beginning to be outside of Chuba’s nature to cause such pain. His master had been a cruel, merciless tormentor. Chuba didn’t want to become that which he so loathed.

There had to be a way besides killing this pathetic human to gain control over him, to perhaps even co-exist with the man who was not so unlike a goblin…

It was as if a candle had been lit in the goblin’s little mind as he thought of an idea that would win him a kingdom, a limitless supply of rats, and maybe, just maybe, even an ally.

“I rat king!” the goblin proclaimed and used his free hand to make a sweeping motion over the rats, who all chattered excitedly as their master took notice of them.

The Rat Catcher flinched visibly and looked at the goblin with fear in his brown eyes.

“Me not want to kill rat catcher!” Chuba exclaimed, still maintaining a grip on the gaff.

The wretched human raised an eyebrow at the strange goblin and asked, “What do yous wants then, gobby?”

“First, my name Chuba! Not Goblin! Not Gobby! And not Walking Chamber Pot!” Chuba cried, once again tightening the noose around his former tormentor’s neck.

The Rat Catcher nodded furiously, crying out in pain.

“Alright, oh Rat King Chuba! What yous want from me?”

Chuba loosened his grip on the gaff and let The Rat Catcher pull himself into a sitting position.

“We share sewers. One half mine, one half yours. I no bother you, you leave Chuba alone. I just want home like you.”

Chuba’s words were genuinely sincere for he really did want to live in peace. Besides, was he no more wretched and shunned by society than The Rat Catcher?

The squatting man ran a hand through his greasy hair and considered the proposal. Perhaps it was loneliness or the hopelessness of the situation but after many long moments, he nodded in agreement.

“We allies then. One sewer, two rulers.”

The Rat Catcher’s words brought a crooked smile to Chuba’s face and he pulled the gaff off the man’s neck.

Just maybe, the little goblin understood him. And what it was like to be an outcast. Maybe they could be friends…

A look of relief and perhaps even gratitude came over The Rat Catcher and he extended a grimy hand.

“Wes one and same eh Chuba?”

Chuba shook the outstretched hand eagerly and nodded.

“Both love rats, both smell bad, and both kings!” the goblin said, laughing.

The Rat Catcher joined him and together they cackled for many moments, their joyous screeching echoing throughout the tunnels of their jointly ruled kingdom.

Chuba wiped a tear away from his eyes and realized that the rats were getting restless, their hungry red eyes glaring out at the two kings from the shadows. The enchantment magic that held them in place was beginning to fail.

“Go away!” the goblin cried, desperately hoping there was enough magic left for one last command. He smiled victoriously as the denizens of the sewers, their subjects, vanished back into the shadows and down the various tunnels of their kingdom.

Before they could all vanish though, Chuba’s nimble hands reached out and caught a squirming, fat rodent. He put the creature out of its misery with a quick twist of his hands and lay it down between him and his newfound friend, The Rat Catcher.

The goblin pulled a tiny knife from his boot and looked up at his new comrade, who licked his crusty lips with anticipation.

“You wants heads or tails?”