Marla sat outside on the stairs that led up to her deck.
“What the heck was that?” she thought. Whatever it was had made her dog bark something fierce. It was going off like the milkman walked right into the kitchen to use the fridge.
The barking had calmed down by now, but Marla could see that something had been on the deck. There were piles of little brown pellets all over the deck. If she was not so certain what she saw was large she would have assumed it was just mouse poop.
Whatever she had seen was several feet wide at least. By the time she had flipped on the outdoor lights there was nothing large on her deck at all, just tipped over chairs and little brown pellets absolutely everywhere.
She had kept her eyes on the yard for some time as she wanted to be sure whatever it was decided to go somewhere else. She looked over at her deck and saw that the paint was all scratched up, as if someone had taken thousands of little razor-blades and cut all over the place. The paint was so torn up Marla could see piles of it strewn about, almost coating the little brown pellets.
Marla decided to go back inside, locking the door to the deck. The dog was already way ahead of her and was sleeping diagonally on the bed. Marla had to shove the dog over with her hip to make room, but everything eventually fit. She looked at the clock: 01:17. She had to get to sleep soon as she had work in the morning. The bus left at 07:15.
Marla awoke to the sound of her dog bellowing at the door to her bedroom, trying as hard as it could to blow the door down with its bark. The dog was pawing at the foot of the door, clearly trying to get out.
“Stop” shouted Marla as she pulled her dog back. The dog did not stop, in-fact it started barking more fervently and attempting to wiggle away from Marla to keep digging at the door. Marla opened the door and the dog bolted out towards the sliding glass door that stood between the inside of the house and the deck. The dog had attempted to paw at the glass door but it could not get a grip, instead just creating a series of high-pitched squeaks against the surface.
Marla flicked on the light to the deck. She saw the deck was mostly clear apart from what seemed like a flowing brown liquid moving down the stairs. It was gone too quick for her to be certain, but it looked as if a mud-puddle was running around. Odd, thought Marla, as there was no mud on the deck - just the little brown pellets.
The dog was still going nuts. Marla wanted to investigate outside but was too wise to let her dog out there, the dog was clearly worked up too much to listen to anything other than a whistle which Marla did not have on her this second. Marla pulled the dog back into the kitchen, put up her baby gate she normally used to keep the dog out of the kitchen, and trapped the dog inside. Marla then opened the sliding glass door, which made the dog start to howl and whimper.
Marla shut the glass door behind her to try to get a better idea of if anything was in her yard. She could not hear anything outside of the normal rustles of wind. She went over to check her stairs and sure enough she did not see any mud. She figured she must have still been half asleep and she must have imagined the motion and mixed it with the shadows in the corner.
She sat on her stairs. She leaned her head back against the wall to try to relax for a minute. One minute accidentally turned into several minutes as she dozed off for a little bit.
Marla awoke to feeling like her ankles were being rubbed with sandpaper. She jolted up and looked down. In her horror she saw that she was ankle deep in a swirling mass of mice, all trying to scurry up her legs. She screamed and jumped up.
Marla could not tell how many mice there were, there must have been thousands of them. She had never seen this many of a rodent in one spot. They moved in tight coordination, like a flock of birds, as if they were thinking in unison. So much so that Marla could have sworn they formed a hand to grab at her hip.
She managed to stomp herself free just enough to lurch backwards and slam into the wall. She could hear her dog going wild inside, clawing at the baby gate and trying to get outside to help. Marla pushed herself up and started trying to run to the sliding glass door. She managed to get a solid grip on the wood of the deck after turning a couple of mice into roadkill as they kept running under her feet. She could have sworn they were trying to get her to slip on their bodies and blood.
She pushed towards the door, slamming her hand against the wall of the house to create some leverage. Using the other hand she pulled open the glass door just enough for her to slip inside, where she slammed the door shut. The mice were managing to get the door to shake and they kept digging their faces into the spot where the door met the house, trying to pry it open.
Several mice had managed to get inside before Marla closed the door, and it was at this moment that the dog realized that they could jump over the baby gate. The dog leaped up and quickly took care of the mice on the floor, creating quite the mess. Marla slipped on some blood as she brought over the old broom handle she used to keep the door shut as the lock was broken. She managed to get it down in the gutter of the door and could feel that it was securely shut now.
The mice tried to open the door for a few more minutes before giving up and sloshing off of the deck. The dog was asleep after about an hour of being on-watch, but Marla sat on the couch for the rest of the night until the sun came up.