Howard tried his best to interfere. It seemed like he was a bit paranoid, having finally thought that he'd killed me. He lurked all around the lab throughout the day. Making it more difficult for Maille to give me food and water like she wanted. But she managed. However, we weren't without our close calls.
"What are you doing in here?"
The voice had become quite familiar to me. I equated that voice to darkness, to death scented hands. And to unintentional rough treatment by my rescuer.
It didn't surprise me that I got shoved into a container full of the scent that came before new wood to crawl through in the cages.
I didn't even make a sound, conscious at least that doing anything now, could mean that I would die.
"There's a spill on the floor, sir." Maille said calmly enough as she rattled containers near me. -cleaning bottles- Sloshing liquid about. "Just gathering the stuff to clean it up."
"That's what the cleaning crew is for." He said suspiciously.
"I like to work in a clean environment." She replied. "It makes work more enjoyable." With one last rattle of the bottles her voice faded. "I think the animals stay healthier to."
The door slammed."I think the animals stay healthier too." He mimicked back. "Bah!" My world went head over heels as he swiped the cleaning stuff Maille had hurriedly hid me in from the shelf. "The worse this department does, the better my chances for moving elsewhere are! Gah!" Some of the more unstable bottles burst open, soaking through the paper towel I was hiding in. And also ruining Harvey's dollar store shoes that he thought made him look cool. "Stupid bottles! I can't wait for this place to shut down!" A cleaning bottle rolled over the top of me. Howard had kicked it. Spilling even more liquid all over the place.
I admit, as the little hamster, I had no idea what he was talking about. Closing the department? For being as observant as I am, that little nugget of information had never come out before. I'd thought he wanted to be the head of the best department in the company. Switching to another one, he'd never let on to that before.
As a hamster though, this information didn't concern me at all. The hands of death had left the room. My rescuer was no where to be found. No, my main concern was that this wet paper towel was suffocating me. I didn't like the cleaning smell when it was in the cage. This, this was much much worse. I huddled there, expecting Maille to come back at any moment. She wouldn't leave me. She wouldn't leave me.
But the smell got stronger, I got colder, and no Maille came to my rescue. Time passes differently as a Hamster.
Sick to my stomach, I had to do something. I couldn't just stay there. My insides twisted as I moved shakily to my feet. The paper towel tore around me, saving me from having to use my teeth to get out. I'd tasted this cleaning smell before. Pure curiosity. It wasn't a good taste.
Staying wet. I couldn't stay wet. I needed to get to a drier place. I don't know why I knew that, but I did. Except, trying to walk, I felt like shards of glass were trying to pierce me inside and out.
Maybe I should wait for my rescuer. She had to come back. She'd stuffed water, meds, and food down my mouth. That meant she cared right? She had to care. She had to come back.
Shivering from the cold, I laboriously moved through the wet paper towel. A puddle of cleaning agents spread before me.
"Maille! How long does it take you to get your paperwork done! We don't have all day!" I cowered, my ears twitching as Hands of Death stomped past the doorway to the closet. Shelter. I needed to get to shelter. Gathering my strength, I inched through the sloshy mess. I collapsed under the shelving unit, finally on dry ground, if surrounded by millions of dust bunnies. Hands of Death wouldn't find me here. I closed my eyes. He wouldn't find me here.
Martin Elek
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