The Feast of the Rats

The Feast of the Rats
Mia sat stiffly in the passenger seat of Miss Jackie’s old sedan, clutching the thin blanket she always carried with her. The city felt strange tonight. Even though the streets were mostly empty, she felt watched. The headlights cut through the dark as Miss Jackie drove slowly toward the park.
“Mia, are you sure you left your bag here?” Miss Jackie asked, glancing at her with worried eyes.
“Yes,” Mia whispered. “I had my clothes and a few cans of food there. I hid them under the bench near the fountain. I need them, Miss Jackie. It’s all I have.”
Miss Jackie gave her a small nod. “Alright. We will look, but we need to be quick. This part of town is not safe at night.”
They passed the park gates, but Mia frowned when she saw the fountain area from the road. Something was off. There was a strange glow ahead, a kind of reflection from a puddle or maybe a broken bottle. Miss Jackie slowed down as they reached the edge of the park, her hands tight on the steering wheel.
Then Mia gasped. “Stop. Look!”
Miss Jackie pressed the brakes, the tires crunching over loose gravel. Beyond the park fence was an abandoned lot that had been fenced for years, but the gate now hung open as if someone had forced it. The weeds inside were tall and swaying, and in the middle of the lot, under the weak moonlight, dozens of rats scurried around something on the ground.
The sight was enough to make Miss Jackie cover her mouth. “Good Lord,” she whispered.
“What are they eating?” Mia asked, her voice trembling.
Miss Jackie did not answer right away. Her instincts screamed to get back in the car and drive away, but something about Mia’s wide eyes kept her frozen.
Mia stepped closer, her bare feet crunching over dead leaves. The smell hit her first — a rotten stench that made her gag.
“Do not go closer!” Miss Jackie hissed, hurrying after her.
But Mia had already taken two more steps when she froze completely. There, in the middle of the writhing rats, lay the torn, bloodied body of a man. His face was barely visible, but one eye stared lifelessly up at the sky. His clothes were soaked with blood and dirt. The rats scattered for a moment when they noticed the two women, only to return to the feast seconds later.
Mia let out a sharp cry. “Miss Jackie, that’s him! That’s Archie Rivas!”
Miss Jackie’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“That man,” Mia said, her voice shaking. “That’s Archie. Oh God, he is dead!”
Miss Jackie grabbed her arm. “We have to call the police right now.”
Her hands fumbled for her phone, dialing with shaking fingers. “Hello, yes, this is Jackie Salazar. We are near the old park on Morton Street, at the abandoned lot. There is a man here. He is… he is dead. Please send someone quickly!”
The dispatcher’s calm voice on the other end said they would send units right away and told them to stay where they were until officers arrived.
But neither Mia nor Miss Jackie could take their eyes off the body.
The silence of the night was broken by the wet sound of rats tearing at flesh. Mia pressed her hands over her ears, tears sliding down her face.
“I think they killed him,” Mia whispered. “They are eating him like they killed him.”
Miss Jackie swallowed hard. “Rats do not kill men, Mia. Something else killed him. Something terrible happened here.”
Minutes later, the faint sound of sirens began to echo through the night, but to Mia it felt like hours. She kept looking at Archie’s body, at the strange way it lay twisted, almost as if someone had dropped him there like garbage.
“I do not like this,” Mia said suddenly, taking a step back. “It feels wrong.”
Miss Jackie nodded. “Yes. Very wrong.”
The first patrol car screeched to a stop near the gate. Two officers got out, flashlights in hand, and one of them immediately gagged when the beam landed on the corpse.
“Stay back, ladies,” one officer said firmly. “This is now a crime scene.”
Mia clutched Miss Jackie’s arm. “But you believe me now, right? He is dead. Someone killed him.”
The officer looked grim. “Yes, miss. We will need you both to make a statement.”
As more police cars arrived, the lot became filled with flashing red and blue lights. Investigators moved in, shooing away the rats with long sticks, covering what was left of Archie’s body with a white sheet.
One detective, tall with graying hair, approached Miss Jackie and Mia. “You two are the ones who found him?”
“Yes,” Miss Jackie said, her voice still shaky. “We were just driving by when we saw the rats. We did not touch anything.”
“Good,” the detective said. “This is… very bad. The state of the body suggests he has been here for hours, maybe more. We will know more once the coroner arrives.”
Mia swallowed hard. “Detective… do you think the person who killed him is still out here?”
The detective’s face hardened. “It is possible. You should both leave as soon as we get your statements. This is not a safe place to be tonight.”
Mia nodded but kept glancing back toward the covered body. Something about it bothered her, something she could not put into words. She thought she saw movement under the sheet, but when she blinked, it was gone.
An officer guided them back to Miss Jackie’s car and told them to wait while paperwork was done.
Mia sat in silence, her knees pulled to her chest.
Miss Jackie tried to comfort her, but before she could speak, Mia gasped and pointed toward the lot.
The sheet covering Archie’s body had shifted.
No wind blew, yet the white cloth slowly slid off his face as if invisible hands were pulling it away.
Mia grabbed Miss Jackie’s arm, her voice breaking.
“Miss Jackie… he is smiling.”