Where the Heart Lies

Chapter Ten: Revenge of the Rats

Willard was ready. He had gathered up as many of his rats as he could, piling them into the van that he had borrowed from work. The rats squeaked as they stumbled over each other, their bodies nearly up to the ceiling in the close confines. Ben, looking like a true General, sat on a shelf on the side of the van, watching as suitcase after suitcase of rats was emptied. Willard filled the van as full as he could, and then smiled madly at Ben. "Let's go visit Mr. Martin." He shut the back door of the van, making sure it was secure, and then drove off to Stiles and Martin Manufacturing, ready to pay a visit to his boss.

The parking lot was deserted save for Martin's car when Willard pulled the van up to the loading docks, making sure to park as close to the large doors as possible. He turned and looked at the rats, who were watching him carefully. "You all know what needs to be done. Let's go do it."

He exited the van, and then punched in the code that would open up the loading bay doors, pausing in slight fear when the doors squalled open. After counting to fifty, he was sure that Martin had not heard the noise. 'Whew.' He opened the van doors, and the rats came pouring out in a brown tidal wave, heading into the building at Willard's command.

He walked into the elevator, and the rats followed, pressing tightly against each other, and Willard felt a brief touch of claustrophobia. The rats were swarming about his ankles, squeaking, and Willard glared at them. "Still!" They obeyed, and Willard sighed in relief and waited for the elevator to reach its floor.

The elevator stopped, and as the doors opened, rats came pouring out in a brown wave, revealing the angry and vengeful Rat King. Willard started down the hall, his eyes gleaming in the darkness.

"Find his office." Six dozen rats scurried away, their noses twitching as they searched. Willard stepped into the office, grinning madly as he noticed that Mr. Martin's light was on and his door was open. He inched closer, keeping to the shadows as best as he could, and watched as the rats entered the office-first one, then two, and soon there were over a dozen. Some were perched on the top of the couch, others on the couch itself, and one was right next to the mouse.

Willard stepped into the storeroom, plucking the blood soaked dowel from the floor where he had dropped it, and smiled madly. 'Soon, Socrates. You will be revenged, I promise.'

Martin, who was supposedly staying late to work on the books for the Christmas bonus season, but was actually looking at porn, didn't notice the rats at first. Then he reached for his mouse and encountered warm fur. He jumped in surprise as the rat he had grabbed squeaked in indignation.

Martin swiveled his desk lamp so it fell square on the rat, and he gaped at it. "Where the hell did you come from?" The rat remained where it was, and gradually Martin realized that he could hear squeaking from the couch. He gulped, and then slowly focused his lamp on the couch, gasping in fear and shock.

"My God! Look at all the rats!" He jumped as he heard a voice answer.

"Yes. Look. At the rats." Willard stood in the doorway, a mad grin fixed on his face and his eyes blazing with vengeance as he stared at Socrates' killer. "We've come to see you."

Martin watched at rats swarmed into his office, and stared at Willard, angry and a little scared. "We?"

Willard grinned insanely, and Martin felt tendrils of fear crawl along his spine. He had never seen Willard like this-he looked ready to rip him apart with his bare hands. "They'll do anything I tell them."

"Then tell them to get the fuck out of my office!" Martin yelled, and Willard's grin became a rictus. He went slightly pale, and Willard stared at him, eyes almost black with fury. "Sit down, Mr. Martin."

Martin began to sink into his chair, scared and indignant. "Now you listen to me Willard!"

"SIT! DOWN!" Willard screeched, brandishing the dowel at him, and Martin sat, his eyes fixed on the madman in front of him. Willard stepped into the office, and advanced on him, speaking in a voice of barely suppressed rage.

"Mr. Martin-you stole this company from my father. It killed him, and it killed my mother. And now you're trying to kill me."

"No, I..."

"You…never left me alone for a minute. You made a fool of me in front of everybody, and now-you're trying to take my house and leave me with no means of providing for Abbie. You made me…hate myself. I thought a lot about it-hating myself. Well, right now, at this moment-I. Like myself."

Willard shoved the dowel into Martin's chest, punctuating each word with a sharp jab. "You. Killed. Socrates."

Martin looked up at him, confused and scared. "Who the hell is Socrates?"

"He was the only friend I ever had!" Willard grunted in surprise as Martin knocked the dowel out of his hand and sent him crashing against the couch. 'Run run as fast as you can.' Willard clambered to his feet. "Follow."

Martin ran down the hall, pursued by Willard's army, and backed into the elevator, certain that he would be able to shut the doors against them and escape. But he was wrong.

Ben dropped from the ceiling where he had been hiding and landed on Martin's neck, biting deep into his jugular, and Martin screamed in pain and terror as a geyser of blood was released. He collapsed to his knees, trying desperately to shake off the monster that clung to him, and the rats poured in under the door, biting every bit of him they could reach. He screamed and flailed, but for every one rat he managed to toss off, three took its place.

Willard came forward, eyes gleaming in mad joy at the sight of Martin covered in rats. He ratcheted the elevator doors closed, locking them, and then stabbed at Martin's legs through the bars. "What's the matter, tiger? Can't take a little blood?"

Martin fell on his back, still screaming, and one of the rats tore a chunk out of his right cheek. Willard spoke in a grim whisper. "Tear him up."

He slapped the button for the elevator, and as it started to descend Willard locked eyes with Ben and smiled. "Goodbye, Ben!" He stood by the elevator, listening with grim satisfaction to the sounds of Martin screaming in pain as he was devoured. Finally, the sounds died down, and Willard left the building, driving carefully home. The last thing he needed was to get picked up for a traffic violation.

He walked into the house, wading through the rats, and went to the kitchen. Now came the hardest part of all. He found the poison tucked away behind a bottle of cleaning fluid, and went down to the basement, pouring it into a large dish. "Food. Food, everybody. Food."

He turned and went up the stairs, not wanting to watch the rats in their death throes, and found a smoke bomb. He gulped, then lit it and tossed it down into the basement, then slammed the door shut and sat against it, waiting. It didn't take long, and Willard clapped his hands over his ears to block out the horrible sounds.

After, he cleaned up the dead rats, burning them, and then sealed up the house-plastering the walls, shutting the flue, and duct taping the toilet seat shut-he wanted no ingress anywhere.

By the time he finished, he was reeling from exhaustion. He staggered up the stairs and into his bedroom, collapsing on top of the covers. He was asleep in five minutes.

"Hello?"

"Abbie?"

"This is she. Who's this?"

"Cathryn. Listen, have you seen Willard lately? I'm a bit worried about him. He and Mr. Martin got into it yesterday and…"

"And what?"

"Well, Abbie-the police were by here earlier. They said that Martin's been killed-and possibly chewed on by animals."

"I saw Willard last night, but he only told me he'd been fired. We spent most of the night discussing our wedding plans."

"Oh. Well, I think we should go and tell him about Martin. I'm actually almost there-I'm calling from the car. Do you think you could meet me near his house?"

"Yeah, sure. Give me five minutes, alright?"

"Alright."

Abbie hung up, staring at the phone. She hadn't wanted to lie to Cathryn, but she knew if she had told her the truth-that she knew exactly what Willard was going to do and had encouraged it-Cathryn would view her as an accomplice to murder. She took a fortifying breath, and then headed to the nearby bus stop, dialing Willard's number on the way.

Willard bolted out of sleep when his phone went off right next to his ear. He cursed, glancing at the clock, and for a brief moment his thought was 'Shit, I'm late for work.' But then he realized he had no work to be late for, and he relaxed and answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

"Hey Abbie baby."

"Willard, you call me Abbie baby again and I'll reach through the phone and rip your lungs out."

"Sorry Abbie baby. It won't happen again Abbie baby. I apologize Abbie baby."

"Willard…you're really skating, darling. I actually called for a reason."

"Oh?"

"Yeah…Cathryn called me. It seems the police got in touch with her and told her Mr. Martin had been, and I quote 'killed and possibly chewed by animals'. She asked me if I knew anything."

Willard gulped. "What…what did you tell her?"

"The truth, sort of. I didn't know what you were planning to do, but I know whatever you did was justified. Was there much blood?"

"Yes. Who would have thought the old man to have so much blood in him?"

"Indeed. And the rats?"

Willard shuddered, walking downstairs to find some food for breakfast. "I…killed them. Socrates was the only one I gave a damn about. But God, hearing them scream….I had nightmares." He paused, hearing a sound from above, and turned and stared into the bloody face of Ben. "Jesus Christ."

"Willard, what's wrong?"

"Abbie…I have to go."

"Willard, what is going on? !"

"Goodbye, Abbie."

"Willard, don't you dare…Shit!" Abbie stared at her phone, worried. 'Willard…'

The bus pulled up at the stop by Willard's house, and Abbie ran out, noticing with trepidation the police cruiser parked nearby. Cathryn's car was in front of the house, and Abbie walked up to her. "Cathryn?"

"Abbie! He won't let me in. I've knocked a dozen times, and there's no answer. I was about to look in the windows, see if I can see anything."

"Ma'am, do you mind if we ask you a few questions before you try breaking into a home?"

Abbie turned to the policeman that had spoken. He was about forty, with sandy hair and a pleasant countenance. "No, not at all. Fire away."

"Thank you Ma'am. May I have your names?"

"Annabelle Carsons and she's Cathryn Harring."

"And how do you two know Mr. Stiles?"

"Miss Harring is an ex coworker of his, and I'm his fiancé."

The cop nodded. "How long have you known Mr. Stiles?

Cathryn thought for a moment. "Almost two months, I think. I honestly don't keep track."

"I see. Miss Carsons?"

"One month and one week. We met in the supermarket-we literally ran into each other."

"Miss Carsons, did you ever meet Mr. Martin?"

Abbie nodded, impatient. "Yes, once, he was an asshole, could we please try and see if Willard is alright? ! Or do you want to know more useless shit?"

Meanwhile, inside the house Willard was in serious trouble. He had thought Ben was gone for good, but like a vengeful spirit the giant rat had returned, bringing reinforcements. Willard sat against the kitchen wall, staring in terror at him. "Ben! I…I'm sorry I left you there. I…I got scared, and I left you there. But…you made it back." He shuddered as Ben continued to stare at him, his black eyes accusatory. "There was nothing I could do about Socrates." He giggled insanely. "But…we got Mr. Martin back. We got Mr. Martin back together, didn't we?"

He rested his head against his chest, sobbing quietly, and then jerked it up when he heard his name being called. 'Abbie!'

"WILLARD! WILLARD OPEN THE DOOR!"

Willard slowly stood, eyes still fixed on Ben.

"It's all over for you, Ben. You can go….anywhere! You can live…anywhere! I have nowhere!"

One of the policemen heard him. "Who the hell's he talking to?"

The other one came forward, shining his flashlight into the gloomy house. "This guy's nuts. We should call Bellevue."

Abbie spun around, her eyes blazing with fury. "Don't you dare! He is not insane! WILLARD!" She pounded on the door, and the cops sighed, and then gasped as their flashlights picked up something else.

"Jesus, it's not just Bellevue. We've got to call the Health Department and exterminators! There must be a thousand rats in that house!" One looked at Abbie. "Miss, unless you want to get eaten alive, I'd come away from there."

Cathryn gasped. "Martin."

Willard slowly advanced towards the kitchen counter, his eyes focused on the bag that rested atop it. Inside the bag, at the very top, was a rat trap. Willard slowly opened the bag, speaking in a soothing tone to Ben. "Do you want some food? I'll give you all the food I've got if you'll just go…away. It's food, Ben. Only food."

Ben sniffed, and Willard nodded. "That's right, Ben. Food. Come on and get it."

Ben leaned forward, falling into the bag and onto the trap with a squeak of shock. Willard stumbled back against the wall, eyes wide in hate and triumph.

"THAT'S IT FOR YOU, BEN! I HATE YOU! I LOVED SOCRATES, BUT I! HATE! YOU!"

He stood for a few moments, breathing heavily, and then came forward, gasping when he saw the empty bag. He looked wildly around for Ben, gulping in fear when he noticed rats heading for him. He ran, searching frantically for an escape, and the rats blocked his way to the front door. Willard turned, grabbing a chair and smashing a window. He climbed up, trying to force his way through the bars.

Abbie heard the glass smash and turned, eyes widening. "Willard!"

"Abbie! Help me! Help!"

She started to open the door, and one of the policemen wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her off the steps as she struggled madly.

"Let me go! Goddamn it, that's my fiancé in there! I'm not going to leave him! Let me go, you fuck! Willard!"

The cop tightened his grip. "I'm sorry Ma'am, but fiancé or no, I'm not letting you go in there. It's too dangerous."

"Fuck the danger and fuck you! WILLARD!" She tried once more to break free and struggled so wildly that the other policeman had to come help his partner restrain her. He spoke soothingly to her as she struggled. "Now Miss, I'm sure everything will be fine. See, he's not at the window anymore. I'm sure everything will be…"

A bloodcurdling scream came from the upstairs of the house, and Abbie froze in terror. "WILLARD! No, no, no, no, no, NO!" She slumped in between the arms of the cops, sobbing brokenly. "No…" She stared with blank eyes at the giant rat silhouetted against the glare from the streetlights, her mind numb from grief, then gasped as another shadow, this one man shaped, rose out of the gloom, falling onto the rat with a scream of rage, stabbing it over and over again.

Abbie gave a final scream and fainted.

*One Week Later*

"I want to see him."

"Miss, I told you, Mr. Stiles is practically catonic. He has not responded to any outside stimuli. Whatever happened to him drove him over the edge."

Abbie took a breath, then leaned in and spoke in a firm tone, emphasizing each word. "I want to see my fiancé. Now. And I'm not leaving this asylum until you let me."

"Miss, I told you..."

"I don't give a shit what you told me! I want to see Willard!"

"Miss Dolman, is there anything wrong?"

Abbie turned to face the speaker, a man of about fifty with grey hair and a drooping mustache. He smiled at her, and then addressed the receptionist. "Is there a problem?"

"This young lady wants to see Willard Stiles. She claims to be his fiancé."

"Really? My condolences, Miss?"

Abbie glared at him. "Annabelle Carsons. And you are?"

"Dr. Glover assigned to Mr. Stiles while he is a patient here."

Abbie gazed pleadingly at him. "Please, let me see him. Please. I don't care if he doesn't look at me. I just need to see him and talk to him."

Dr. Glover looked at her, considering, and then nodded. "Very well, but don't be surprised if he doesn't respond to you."

He led Abbie to Willard's room. "He's harmless, so you should be safe. I'll stand right outside the door just in case." Abbie nodded, and then stepped inside, tears flowing down her face at the sight before her eyes.

Willard was sitting on the bed, his legs crossed and his arms hanging limply as he stared into the middle distance. Healed rat bites were on his face and arms, and an uneaten tray of food sat in front of him.

Abbie stumbled forward, then sat next to him and gently touched his arm. "Willard? Baby, please look at me. Please, Willard, it's me. It's your Abbie. Please, baby, come back to me. I love you. Please…" she wrapped her arms around him, sobbing.

Willard felt a shift in the air. He blinked inwardly, trying to make his traumatized brain start working. He could feel something pressing against his side-something soft and warm, completely unlike the cold and rough walls of his cell. He took a breath, and was assaulted by several odors-his own sweat, the sour smell of the food, the sour-sweet smell of the cell, and peaches.

He paused, surprised. 'Peaches?'

He took a deeper breath, and the peach scent came back, stronger than ever. 'Why do I smell…ABBIE?'

Suddenly, memories came flooding back, and Willard began to shiver beneath their onslaught.

Abbie watched, fear in her eyes, as Willard shook violently, murmuring under his breath and screaming softly. "Willard!"

He gave one final, violent shudder, then turned and stared at her, his blue eyes bright with disbelief. "A…Ab…Abbie?"

"Yeah, baby, it's me."

Willard continued staring, then reached out and placed his hand on her cheek. "You're….really here."

Abbie clutched his hand, tears rolling down her face. "Yeah, I am. Baby, I'm so sorry this happened-I tried to get into the house, but I…." she was cut off by Willard kissing her passionately. She clung to him, kissing back just as hard, tasting the salty tears that flowed down his face.

"Abbie….my Abbie….you didn't leave me…my goddess….I thought I'd never see you again…Abbie…" He pulled away and stared at her, his face pleading. "Get me out of here, please. I can't bear it here. Please, get me out." He clung to her, and Abbie gulped, stroking his back.

"I'll try, I promise. I'm sure I can convince Cathryn to help me. We'll have you out in time for New Years."

"Miss? I'm afraid visiting hours are over." Dr. Glover stood in the doorway, a small smile on his face as he noticed that Willard was clinging to her, his eyes shut in silent thanks. "Miss Carsons?"

Abbie gently disentangled herself from Willard. "I heard you, Doctor. Willard? Babe, I have to go, but I promise, the next time you see me, you'll be a free man."

Willard whimpered as she slowly slid off the bed. "Abbie…"

"I'll be back soon, I promise. We've still got a wedding to plan, after all." She gave him a lingering kiss, then left the hospital, determined to find a way of setting him free.

Author's Note-Just a few more chapters to go, and a bit of explanation-Cathryn isn't given a last name in the movie, so I took the last name of the actress that played her and used that. You probably can guess where 'Dr. Glover' came from. Also, Socrates II will make an appearance-but in a slightly different manner. (From here on, I go off the movie.)