Martha was rinsing dishes one evening when she saw what she believed to be a small snake slithering around her kitchen sink. Panicked, she trapped it under a glass and called the local wildlife rescue. The vet arrived, expecting a routine snake retrieval. However, upon closer inspection, his face blanched. He stared at Martha, his voice trembling, “That’s not a snake. It’s far worse.”
Martha looked at veterinarian George, whose face looked pale. “What do you mean it’s not a snake?” she asked, her voice filled with fear. Her hand trembled as she pressed the glass down, feeling the snake moving around inside it.
George searched for the right words, not wanting to scare Martha even more. Suddenly, he grabbed his phone and began to walk away. “Keep your hand on the glass. I have to call someone.” He walked out of the front door, leaving Martha alone, struggling against the snake’s strength. With the size of this thing, she was sure one bite would be enough to kill her. Her heart raced as she waited. Just as her hand began to cramp, George returned.
“What took you so long?” she blurted out. But what animal was actually in Martha’s drain? Why was vet George acting so strange, and why didn’t he want to help her?
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In the days before Martha discovered the animal in her drain, she had noticed strange sounds echoing through her house at night. At first, she had just assumed it was her house settling or something like that, but each night, it was somewhere else inside her house. After a week, she began to hear those sounds during the day as well. She called an exterminator the same day, but when they came by, they told her she didn’t have a single termite in her walls or ceilings. She was back to square one but was exhausted and annoyed at this point.
While washing her dishes, she got lost in thought, thinking about moving away, when she suddenly felt something move past her hand. Martha drained the sink immediately. When it was almost empty, she saw the end of what she thought to be a snake’s tail disappear into her drain. Without thinking, Martha grabbed a glass and placed it over her drain, not wanting the snake to slither into her house. With her other hand, she reached for her phone and called Animal Control.
After what felt like ages, someone rang her doorbell. “Come through the back door!” she yelled as loud as she could, hoping the person at the door would hear her. She didn’t want to leave her spot, as she didn’t want to risk the glass falling over. She heard the person at the door move around her house, and finally, a man stepped into her kitchen. The man introduced himself as George, a vet. Martha explained what she had seen and told George the animal was still underneath the glass.
Intrigued, George stepped closer, and Martha lifted the glass slightly. After peeking underneath the glass, he shot upright and gasped, “That’s not a snake!” George yelled, his eyes wide in shock. Martha couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “We need professional help.”
Martha’s anxiety spiked as George refused to assist her directly. “You can’t leave me like this!” she cried, her voice trembling with panic.
George backed away, his face pale. “I’m sorry, Martha, but this is beyond my expertise,” he said, his voice shaky.
Martha’s mind raced as the creature’s movements became more aggressive, shaking the glass. She looked at George with pleading eyes. George stepped back and quickly dialed a number, speaking urgently. “Hello, yes, this is Dr. George Carson. I need immediate assistance at 345 Maple Street,” he said, his voice rising with each word.
Martha’s heart pounded as she tried to keep the creature contained. George continued, “It’s not a snake—it’s something else. Please hurry.” He hung up and glanced at Martha. “Help is on the way.”
Two more people arrived, equipped with heavy-duty gloves and tools. They moved quickly but carefully, their eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and concern. George took charge, instructing the team to contain the creature immediately. The team swiftly lifted the glass, securing the creature in a containment box in one coordinated move. They trapped it without giving it a chance to escape. Martha watched, her breath caught in her throat.
George assured Martha that it was over, though his tone was far from comforting. “We’ve got it contained. We need to monitor it,” George said, directing the team. Martha’s eyes never left the box.
“What now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
George sighed, looking at her with a mixture of empathy and concern. “Now we figure out what this is.”
She demanded answers, her eyes locked onto George’s. “What is it, George? I need to know,” she said, her voice firm.
“All right, Martha,” he said reluctantly. “You deserve the truth.” George sighed and told Martha she needed to see something. “All right, come with me,” he said, leading her toward the containment box. The team gathered around as George prepared to reveal the truth. He carefully unlatched the containment box, his movements slow and deliberate. “Take a look,” he said, opening it further.
Martha took a deep breath and leaned closer, her eyes widening with curiosity and fear. “What is it?” she asked softly.
Martha gasped, recoiling at the sight of a large, indigo-pink tail. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. “What is that?”
George quickly closed the lid, sealing the box once more. “It’s not a snake,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting hers. “It’s something much rarer,” he said.
Martha’s mind raced with confusion at the strange creature. She tried to piece together everything she had seen and heard. “How did it get here?”
“It’s a lot to take in,” George said gently. Martha nodded, still trying to comprehend the reality of the situation.
“What does it mean?” she asked, her voice small.
George took a deep breath, ready to explain. “It’s a creature we’ve rarely encountered,” he began, his tone serious.
She questioned George, her voice filled with fear and curiosity. “What exactly is it? How did it end up here?”
George hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Martha, this creature is unlike anything we’ve seen around here,” he began.
Martha’s eyes widened. “You have to tell me more,” she insisted.
George sighed, looking at his colleagues before continuing. “All right, but you need to be prepared,” George continued. “It’s something we’ve dealt with before.”
Martha felt a shiver run down her spine. “But why my house?” she wondered aloud.
Martha’s confusion deepened as George hinted at a larger issue. “There’s more to this than just one creature,” he said, his tone serious.
Martha’s eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you telling me, George?” she demanded.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s not just your house, Martha. There have been other incidents nearby,” he admitted.
George revealed the creature was actually a large, aggressive rat. “It’s a species known for its size and aggression,” he explained.
Martha’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A rat that big?” she exclaimed.
George nodded. “Yes, and it’s more dangerous than a typical rat,” he said.
Martha felt a mix of relief and alarm at the revelation. “So it’s not some exotic creature, but it’s still scary,” she said.
George nodded, his expression serious. “We need to be cautious. These rats can cause significant damage and spread disease,” he warned.
Martha took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. “What do we do now?” she asked, looking at George and the team for answers.
“We handle it carefully,” George replied. A team member detailed their encounter with such elusive rodents. “They’re smart and hard to catch,” one team member said. “We’ve seen them hide in the smallest spaces.”
Martha shivered at the thought. “How do we get rid of them?” she asked.
George explained their plan. “We’ll set traps and use specialized equipment to ensure they’re gone,” he said.
Martha nodded, feeling a bit more reassured. “Thank you.”
Martha watched them, feeling a mix of gratitude and lingering fear. “I’ll help however I can,” she offered.
George smiled reassuringly. “But just stay safe, Martha,” he said. “We’ve got this under control.”
Martha decided to check her entire drainage system for more rats. The idea of missing any of those creatures made her skin crawl. She called pest control to thoroughly inspect her house. “I need a full sweep,” she explained to the operator. “Top to bottom.” They assured her a team would arrive shortly.
When the pest control team showed up, Martha felt a small sense of relief. The pest control team found a whole rat colony underneath her house. “We’ve got a big problem here,” the lead technician said, shaking his head.
Martha’s stomach dropped. “You found how many?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Too many,” he replied, “but don’t worry—we’ll handle it.”
They set traps and used specialized equipment to clear the infestation. Martha could hardly believe it. Her home had been a haven for these creatures, and she hadn’t known. The team cleared the rats, allowing Martha to return home safely. “We’ve got them all,” the technician assured her.
Martha breathed a sigh of relief, though the thought of what had been under her house still made her uneasy. “Thank you
so much.”
Despite the removal, Martha no longer felt at ease in her home. Every creak and rustle set her on edge. She found herself checking and re-checking the places where the rats had been. “I can’t live like this,” she thought, frustration mounting.
Martha realized she had to make a change. She put her house up for sale, unwilling to stay any longer. The decision wasn’t easy, but she knew it was the right one. “I can’t live with the memories of those rats,” she thought. She contacted a realtor and started the process. She moved to a different part of town, seeking peace. The new neighborhood was quieter, with tree-lined streets and friendly neighbors.
As she settled into her new home, Martha felt the tension slowly leave her body. “I can finally breathe again,” she sighed, smiling as she explored her new surroundings. The fresh start was just what she needed. To prevent future incidents, she adopted two cats. “Meet Whiskers and Shadow,” she introduced them to her friends.
Martha felt more secure knowing her cats would deter any returning rats. Whiskers and Shadow were always on patrol, their playful antics a constant source of amusement. “You two are the best decision I ever made,” she said, petting them fondly.
With each passing day, the memories of the old house faded, and Martha felt truly at peace in her new home. She smiled, watching her cats play in the sun, knowing she had found happiness again.
