Killing fields

“They brought home what?” I hung on the voice, miles away, tell the story.

I had been gone for a week.  There was one fuzzy video.  I never would have believed, had the blood splattered in the sun room, the torn blinds and lifeless organs been cleaned up.  Body parts belonging to a half-eaten snake, several voles and a kit, just a few weeks old, strewn about with no regard, left me standing there.

Those innocent eyes that drove their purr into my heart were shattered glass.  I was left to sweep up the shards before I moved any farther.   Chester and Toby were on the prowl, striking fear into the neighborhood.  They approached their first birthday having managed to revolutionize our once tranquil street.

Everyone knows Chester and Toby now infamously named Rambo and Rocky.


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