King of the Rats

It was only 7 days ago that I was born. Crawling out of my mother's womb to embrace the wet stench of our clan's hole. My eyes however remained closed till two days after the birthing when I finally gained the strength to pull back my eyelids. 

Throughout my first week, I was taught a lot of different things. The first, and most importantly, I was given a basic rundown on the rudimentary speech used among rats. A slurred and squeaky language. Second was the rules of the hole. A rat eat rat world where rules were merely a strength test with our laws being decided by who was the stronger rat or who could disembowel the other with their teeth first. Finally, we were taught the name and rough history of our clan

'Silver Fang' clan. An odd name I cannot quite wrap my head around considering we have neither fangs nor much silver it would seem. In fact, our teeth are rather dull apart from our two front protruding teeth. 

But either way, it seems to hold quite an esteem within our hole as all the older rats seem to wear it with a great sense of pride.

A clan reaching back 23 generations or 17 years. It's not that we rats don't have long life spans, in fact, the oldest rat in our hole is apparently around 7 years old, it's just that for a rat to live longer than a year is a truly special occurrence. However, age brings power an older rat is almost always a stronger rat. 

Anyway, I'm getting off-topic. Reaching the 8th day Mother had taught all she had to teach and had already left down the single dark passageway leading out of the room, leaving behind her confused and alone children.

Looking around it seemed that we were not the only family of rats that had been seemingly left alone. hundreds of us now stood bewildered as we stared at the dark hole through which our mothers had left.

Not even a moment after old mother dearest had made her hasty departure came swarms of older rats. Men it would appear. How I knew I'm sure you can guess. 

Immediately they began prowling through the young rats. Occasionally grabbing one of the smaller or weaker-looking rats. before muttering something along the lines of. 

"To weaks to inherits the glorious clan name" before pulling out a sharp object, which I had been informed was called a knife, and gutting them right there on the spot. Fear drove the young rats around him to cower away as he began gnawing at the carcass he now held in his hands. 

Events like this occurred throughout the whole room sending at least a thousand rats into cowering fear. Including myself. I have just been born and I would be dammed to have it ended in such a manner. 

However, after careful examination of the large rat-men, it became clear that what to your ordinary young rat might appear as mindless killings actually appears very structured. They only picked on the smallest of rats or the rats which appeared the most afraid. A culling of the weak. 

They were sent in to rid the clan of freeloaders who would not pull their weight. 

Keeping this in mind I looked around and realised one of the males was quickly approaching my family's position. As my stupid siblings cowered away from him I held fast. Receiving ridiculing looks from them. 

Although they are my kin I do not intend to inform them of why I stand in silent rebellion to the fear caused by the males. No, for they are weak and in turn deserve the fate they get. 

The large male stands before me now. Staring down at me with cold eyes. I held his gaze. 

For what felt like an eternity but may only have been a few brief fleeting seconds I held his gaze. 

He reached down menacingly only to turn at the last second and grab one of my unsuspecting siblings and gutted him above my head. 

Blood oozed out of the wound and dripped down onto me staining my white fur. 

"A showers of blood young ones" I hear chitter out from his mouth before he stuffs my sibling into his mouth and moves on. 

The fear I had swallowed down erupted as my breathing intensified. 

Finally sparing a glance to the rest of my siblings they stared at me with awe. I saw a similar look in their eyes they gave the male, fear. 

They feared me. 

And it felt good. Really good. 

As I stared down my sibling's blood still wetting my fur I saw fear in every one of their pitiful little eyes. They refused to hold my gaze as I glared at each one. 

A feeling erupted in my body. An indescribable feeling. Was it pride, no I felt no pride in being feared by these insignificant baboons. 

No, that feeling was the intoxicating feeling of power. 

And along with that feeling came a hunger. Even more ravenous than the hunger for food. 

The hunger for power.