He knew something bad had happened to his youthful companion but he’d scarce expected the news the search parties returned with. He refused to believe it until he’d seen the body himself but, once he had, there was no chance they were mistaken. Tuffy was as dead as a rodent could be.
Jerry stood over the broken body and wept bitter tears for the senselessness of it. Was a single morsel of cheese worth the lad’s life? For naught more, his protégé had been killed. Jerry’s thoughts were fixed on how damned cute the kid had been… scampering about with such unbridled, youthful enthusiasm.
With a sob, he reflected on how it was anything but cute to see the wee fellow with his neck snapped, eyes staring with disbelief that life could be snatched away from him just that quickly. The final indignity of it all was, in death, he’d fouled his diaper and the fetid aroma of feces and death hung thickly in the air.
Jerry turned from the body, tears burned from his eyes by sheer, unbridled fury. He knew the others looked to him for answers, for a response.
“What do we do? What do we do, you ask? We find the ones who did this and we make them pay. We make them pay with the same brutality they visited upon this innocent. We start with that bastard, Tom, and don’t stop until blood runs and this house is, once and forever, acknowledged our undisputed domain!”