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Thud!
Grian flinched as the entire house seemed to rock, grabbing on to the crooked nail in the framing of the wall, eyes flitting from one direction to another. Carefully, he hoisted himself up to the hole of the missing light switch cover, making sure he only poked up enough to see over the edge. Sure enough, confirming his worst suspicions, he saw a human brushing their hands off on their trousers, two cardboard boxes on the floor at their feet.
It was move-in day.
He cursed silently under his breath, knowing it was too quiet for the human to hear over their heavy breathing. He still had to duck as they turned their head to examine the front room, a pleased smile on their face. He counted to five before he poked his head up again, this time paying special attention to the human.
They were young, when it came to human standards. Not a child by any means, but not old like the previous owner of the house. She had been partially blind and deaf, not to mention susceptible to memory loss, which had made it easy for Grian to get what he needed to survive. She had never noticed him slipping out morsels of food or sneaking away buttons or cutting up strips of fabric from her curtains. Already, Grian could tell that this human would not be the same.
For one, they had bright green eyes that were sharp and full of life. They had pulled their dark brown hair back into a ponytail to avoid it falling in their face, which was littered with small and faded scars. They wore a loose T-shirt and blue jeans, and they had a relaxed and optimistic air to them. They looked like they would be able to notice Grian if he wasn't careful enough.
They also weren't alone.
"Okay, we can start by putting all the boxes in here!" They called over their shoulder towards the front door. "Once we have everything out of the truck, we can move it into individual rooms."
"Sounds good!" Another human called from outside. Grian ducked back into the bones of the house, clambering up one of the many ladders he had crafted for himself to get up to the intake vent near the kitchen.
It was there that he watched as the humans—there were three of them—brought box after box into the house. They talked between each other nearly the entire time, their heavy footsteps masking any sounds he might have made. He learned each of their names, Scar, Pearl, and Cub, and the rough outline of their personalities. Scar was the one with the scars, a fitting name, which was surprising for humans that didn't often change their names from birth. Pearl was the tallest with the longest hair, and she reminded Grian slightly of the previous woman who had lived there with her mannerisms and the way she spoke. And then there was Cub.
Cub scared Grian the most out of the three. Despite all of his misconceptions about the new homeowner, Grian found himself a lot less worried as he began to pick up their mannerisms. He was pretty sure they were the first human he had seen, the one with the scars and green eyes, the one the humans called Scar. He didn't seem like much of a threat, if Grian was being honest. He got distracted easily, was somewhat clumsy, and didn't seem all that observant. While he had a working pair of eyes and ears, he wasn't very good at using them, paying attention to his friends and his boxes instead of his surroundings.
But Cub? Cub had an analytical eye. He was examining the room with an intrigued expression, clearly mentally noting the peeling wallpaper and sticky linoleum floors. He looked like someone who knew what he was doing. Someone who would be a threat if he spent too much time here. Grian would have to be extra careful when he was around, lest he get caught. He had heard a few stories of borrowers caught in the past, the sorts of horror stories that all parents taught their children to prepare them for their future on their own. Stories of traps, stories of experiments, stories of all sorts of grotesque and horrifying things the humans were capable of.
Grian hoped Cub wouldn't be around very much.
"Okay, I think we can bring Katy Bee and Finnegan in now." Scar said, moving from the bedroom to the central area with all of the boxes.
Oh no. Were those children's names? Did Scar have kids? Grian hated human children, they were way worse than the adults. Grian had once seen a human child track a house fly to a window, then smash it against the glass while it tried to escape to the outside. They had laughed then, holding up their hand stained with the insides of a once living creature, then wiped it on their pants before running off again. In that moment, all Grian could picture was himself, unable to see the glass keeping him trapped, desperately trying to escape before a massive hand crushed him and smeared him into a streak across the window.
"I'll keep them in the bedroom for now, let them get used to the new space." Scar continued. "After that, I think I'm good, I just need to unpack. Thanks for helping me bring everything in, I appreciate it."
"You think we're just going to leave you here with all these boxes?" Pearl leaned back against the counter, an amused look on her face. "We'll help you unpack."
"Are you sure?" Scar asked skeptically. "There's a lot of stuff."
"I'm not doing anything else today." Cub shrugged. "Go get your cats, we'll start organizing the boxes to where they need to go. You labeled them all, right?"
Cats? Oh no. Oh no no no. Grian felt his heart stop in his chest. If there was anything worse than children, it was cats. They hunted borrowers like mice and birds, able to sniff them out in the walls and track them down when they were out scavenging. They didn't even do it out of necessity. They were fed plenty by the humans that owned them. They did it because it was fun. Because they enjoyed the chase, the taste of blood, the thrill of the kill.
Grian had to find a new house. He had to. There was no way he could stay here with cats. No way.
Except…there wasn't anywhere else for him to go. The distance was way too far. He had only gotten here because of that bird several years ago. Unless he hitched a ride in one of the human cars, he was stuck here. He knew of some borrowers who had ridden in cars or even lived in them, but it was way too dangerous for Grian's taste. He much preferred this house, with its nooks and crannies and hidey-holes. The chances of him getting caught in a car were much higher than his chances of getting caught by one of the cats.
He would just have to be extra careful then. Watch his step. Avoid the cats as best as he could. He always enjoyed a challenge, this would just be a deadly one. He could manage it. He could do it. He would do it. It would be fine.
In the time it had taken for him to have his little mental spiral, Scar had gone out to his car and returned to the house with a carrier. Already, Grian could hear the cats meowing inside, eager to get out and roam around the new area. Scar took the carrier to the bedroom, closing the door behind him, and a moment later, he emerged, a smile on his face.
"They're going to start yelling at the door pretty soon, but we can at least get started setting things up." He stated, moving to some of the boxes in the kitchen.
Grian paid very close attention to where he put all of his things, making sure he knew exactly where the food was, where the soap was, where everything went. He had to make sure he knew how to get to what he needed in the quickest amount of time without running into the cats. He learned the layout of the cabinets, which ones held food and which ones held pots and pans. He learned which room would become the studio, which room would be the library, which would double as the dining room and plant room. He learned where the cat food would be, where the beds were, where the litter box was. All of the details lining up to paint a perfect picture in his mind. He knew what he where everything was and he knew how to get to it in the safest possible way.
"Well, you weren't lying, it definitely is a fixer upper." Pearl stated as they neared the end of the pile of boxes. "It's going to take you a while to get this one to look nice."
"I've needed a project for a while, this one is just a big one." Scar shrugged. "I'm excited for it. It's going to keep me busy, and that's all that matters."
Pearl lugged a bag of cat food into one of the higher cabinets. "If you ever need help with anything, I'm not too far away. Just give me a call, yeah?"
"And me too." Cub added, casting another look over the kitchen. "I think you're going to need the help."
"I'll keep you both in mind then." Scar smiled.
When Cub and Pearl finally left, Grian felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Two fewer pairs of eyes on him. Now he just had to avoid one person's eyes. And the cats, which Scar was now releasing from the bedroom to scramble around the house. That was when Grian decided to take his leave, moving away from the center of the home and into the mess that was the framing and insulation.
As he made his way back to the little pocket that he called home, he mentally reviewed everything that he had learned from his observation of the humans. If he played his cards right, which he was very good at doing, he would be just fine. This would be no different from when old Gertrude lived here.
He would be fine. He had to be.
-
Scar was pretty sure there were mice in the walls of his new home.
It had been two weeks since he had moved in, and nearly every day, he had found some evidence towards there being critters in his house. For one, Katy Bee and Finnegan were obsessed with the walls in the kitchen, meowing at scratching at the vents and the cracks in the drywall. Katy Bee had even spent an entire day staring up at the missing light switch cover in the entryway, meowing over and over again. There had been nothing there, Scar had checked three times, but she refused to budge until he filled up their food bowl.
He had also noticed that some of his snacks had gone missing. Well, that wasn't quite it. They were all still there. But there were tiny slits in the packaging, chunks missing from the main food. Scar found himself despairing every time he threw away a contaminated snack, and so he bought himself some airtight containers that he was sure that a mouse's tiny paws would be unable to get through.
And then there was the rustling, just barely audible. Scar prided himself on his excellent hearing, and he was sure that if it were anyone else, they wouldn't have heard the sound. It was a near silent scrambling sound, usually when the cats were patrolling along the walls, quickly disappearing deeper into the bones of the house.
So…yeah. He was pretty sure he had mice.
"I'm telling you Cub, they're in the walls, I can hear them." Scar climbed out of his car, pocketing his keys with his free hand as he held the phone up to his ear. "But I can't leave out traps, that would be awful."
"Well, what are you going to do to get rid of them instead?" Cub asked. "Traps are the best way to get rid of them, and you know that. Plus, you have cats. They're probably going to die anyway. I don't want to be negative, but you don't really have a lot of options here to have a heart."
"They're just trying to survive though." Scar sighed as he rifled through his keys, slipping his into the lock. "I feel bad."
Cub paused for a moment, then spoke up, affection in his tone. "I know. You have too big of a heart. Google says there are a bunch of humane traps that you can get that won't hurt them in any way, and to spray a pepper spray around the entrances to your house. I'll send you the link I'm looking at, I'm sure you'll be able to do something with it."
"Thanks Cub." Scar pushed open his door, using his feet to herd Katy Bee and Finnegan away from the opening and closing it carefully behind him. "What would I do without you?"
"You'd be googling this on your own." Cub replied, but there was a smile in his voice. "Have you figured out what you want to do first yet? With the house?"
"I think I'm going to take off all the wallpaper first." Scar crouched down to pet his cats, looking around at the walls and the ugly flower print peeling off of them. "You want to help?"
"Peeling off wallpaper? Should be fun. You gonna invite Pearl too?"
"Maybe, I think she's pretty busy right now though with the cleaning business though." Scar pushed himself to his feet, moving to the kitchen and leaning up against the counter. "I'll text her. Does noon tomorrow work for you?"
"Sounds like a plan to me. I've got to get back to work, but I'll see you then."
"See you, Cub." Scar lowered his phone, hanging up before crouching down again to scratch at Finnegan's ears. He purred, leaning into the touch.
scratch scratch scratch
Scar lifted his head, looking over at the wall where the sound seemed to be coming from. Katy Bee was staring up at the light switch with its missing cover, tail flicking back and forth behind her.
"Come on girl, it's just a mouse." Scar clicked his tongue, gesturing for him to follow her. "You wanna help me with my painting? I'm almost done with this one, but I need your opinion on the final touches."
She meowed in response, giving the light switch one last look before padding after him to the studio. He flicked on the light, a smile spreading to his face as he saw his project splayed out in front of him. It was a large canvas, larger than he usually worked on, but the client had specifically asked for it. It was of a lush jungle, filled with hundreds of tiny details and touches that he had painstakingly added to the painting with tiny brushes. From snails to leopards to birds, it was filled with the kind of life that Scar had come to expect of the rainforest. He had studied hundreds of images of jungles to create what he was hoping to be one of his most inspired works yet, and his client was paying him nearly seven figures for it. It was the project that was paying for this house.
"Alright, what do we think?" Scar scooped up Katy Bee, holding her up so that she could see the canvas. She purred, a deep rumble in his chest, and he grinned.
"Good, I'm glad you like it." He tucked her into his arm like a baby and carried her out of the studio, shutting the door behind him. "That's enough studio time for you, go on, go play with Finn."
He set her down next to her brother and moved to the kitchen again, popping open the fridge and looking through the leftovers he had put in tupperware containers and stuffed onto the shelves. It was hard to tell exactly what he amongst the chaos sprawled out in front of him, but he made do, rescuing some mashed potatoes and gravy from the back. He yawned as he watched it rotate in the microwave, Finnegan winding around his ankles in the hopes that he could steal some of the forbidden food.
As he ate, fending off the mongrels that were his cats, he considered what he would do about the mouse problem. Cub had sent him the link to the advice page about humanely getting rid of mice, and he scrolled through it, mentally making notes for what he needed to buy next time he went to the store. He already had a few ideas as to what he was going to do, and while he didn't like the idea of forcefully getting rid of them, he didn't really have any other choice. Mice carried diseases, and if he didn't get rid of them, the cats would almost certainly kill them themselves, and he didn't want them to die simply because he had moved in with a few cats.
With a plan solidifying in his mind, he came to the conclusion that yes, the mice had to go. For their own safety. He just hoped he would get to them before Katy Bee and Finnegan did.
-
Grian hadn't meant to get trapped in the studio. Really, he hadn't! All he had wanted was to take a peek at Scar's painting from up close, and the cats had been asleep when he peeked through the bedroom intake vent only a few minutes ago.
And the painting really was gorgeous, filled to the brim with intricate details that Grian couldn't even believe a human had made. Some of them were as small as the palm of his hand, like the bright blue tree frog near the bottom of the canvas, perched on a rock and so life-like that he almost swore it was breathing. It was incredible, and Grian had spent far too much time admiring all of the tiny details. He was sure he had missed a majority of them, and that if he were to look at the painting over and over again, he would notice something new every time.
So he had ended up looking at it for longer than he should have. He still shouldn't have gotten trapped. That wasn't his fault. Scar usually kept the door closed to keep the cats out. But apparently this time, he had left it open just a crack, maybe to air out the paint, maybe on accident, maybe whatever. He had left it open just a crack, and one of the cats had slipped inside and was staring up at him, an eager look on its face.
Now here lay the problem. The cat didn't know what an extraordinary painting sat on the easel in the studio, no matter how much Scar talked to it about the details and beauty of the piece. All it knew was that there was a small living thing up there, just waiting to be caught in its claws. It wouldn't think twice before jumping up to get him, no doubt destroying the painting in the process. As much as Grian valued his life, he also didn't want to see such a masterpiece destroyed.
Not to mention, the only exit to the room was the vent in the floor, and he wouldn't be able to get there without running past the cat. He definitely couldn't wait here until Scar arrived, because if Scar found out he existed…it would be bad. It would be really bad. Plus, there was no way he would be able to stay there, not with the way the cat was gearing up to pounce. No, he had to make a break for it, now.
With a deep breath to steady himself, Grian leapt from the easel, landing with a roll only a few feet away from the cat. It immediately swiveled to face him, paw darting out, but he jumped over it, heart racing as he lurched into a run. He ducked behind scattered sheets of paper with sketches scribbled on them as he darted towards the vent, but it did nothing to deter the cat on his heels. It was as if it was enjoying the chase as he threw himself towards his escape, the only thing that would save him from the beast ready to tear him apart.
He could smell the breath of the cat as he stumbled across the floorboards, tiny feet slapping against the varnished slats, heartbeat a roar in his ears. He could feel the thudding vibrations of its paws as it stalked him, and his breath caught in his breath as he realized it was toying with him. It could have easily caught him the second he landed from the easel, but now, it was playing with him. He was the mouse in the situation, and the cat was going to eat him. There was no way he would be making it out of this.
Unless…the vent was so close now. One of the slats in it was bent, just enough for him to slip through, and he knew the cat wouldn't be able to get him in there. He just had to make it. He could see it drawing closer as he sprinted towards it. The cat didn't know what he was doing, it couldn't know what he was doing, so if it really was playing with him, he had a chance. He could make it to the vent. Please, he had to make it.
A paw slammed into his side, batting him across the floor and knocking the breath out of his lungs. The vent disappeared from his sight, as did his hopes for escaping, and he bounced a few times from the sheer force behind the attack. He didn't get a chance to recover before the paw slammed down on his small body, pinning him to the floor. He let out a squeak of pain as his ribs were crushed beneath the cat, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for the pain of its claws or teeth sinking into his flesh.
It never came. Instead, the door to the studio swung open, and Scar's scolding voice filled the air.
"Katy! You're not supposed to be in here, how did you…is that a mouse?"
Grian squirmed against the paw, gasping as his bruised ribs twinged beneath the cat's paw.
"Hey, hey, let it go, come on—" Scar said, and suddenly the weight lifted from on top of him. "…that's not a mouse."
Grian tried to drag himself away, heart stuttering in his chest. This was bad. This was very bad. He wasn't supposed to exist, humans were not supposed to know that he existed, and now Scar was looking at him. Scar had seen him. Scar was seeing him now.
"Woah, hey, hey, hey, it's okay." Warm fingers carefully scooped him up off of the floor, cradling him gently. Grian watched in horror as he was lifted up to Scar's eye level, bright green eyes staring at him with fascination. "Woah…you're so tiny…"
Grian tried again to drag himself away, even though logically there was nowhere for him to go. Scar had caught him. He was going to die now, or something far worse was going to happen to him. He didn't want to end up in a human museum or science lab. He just wanted to eat chocolate and watch Scar paint and curate his collection of knickknacks. He had just gotten a new one, one of Scar's earrings that was missing the pair, a green crystal that matched the human's eyes. He didn't want this. He didn't want this.
"It's okay, I've got you, the cats can't get you now." Scar murmured, lowering his voice, and Grian found himself distantly grateful for it. Human voices were horribly loud up close. "Oh, I hope she didn't hurt you."
Grian's ribs definitely hurt, but it wasn't anything permanent. He could already tell that they were just bruised, not broken. Not that it mattered. He wasn't making it out of here in one piece anyway.
"Here, uh…" Scar gently tipped him into his left hand, then gently pressed the tip of his finger against his chest. Grian's breath caught in his throat as he realized just how easy it would be for him to push down, ending his life right there and then.
"I can't feel any broken bones, but you're too small to tell." Scar hummed, and all of a sudden they were moving, leaving the studio behind. "Cub should be here soon, he might be able to help."
Grian managed to get onto his hands and knees amidst the rocking of Scar's paces, and with a desperation of a cornered animal, lunged for the edge of Scar's hand. He caught air for a split second, free falling, and a bubble of hope welled in his chest before immediately vanishing as Scar caught him neatly in his hands again.
"Woah, careful!" He brought his hands up to his face again. "That's too big of a fall, you'd hurt yourself."
Grian, frustrated and terrified and desperate, bit his hand as hard as he could.
"Ow!" Scar yelped, jumping, but it wasn't enough. "I'm trying to help! I don't know if you're hurt or not!"
Grian winced as his voice washed over him, way too loud, but he wasn't done yet. He bit him again, wishing his teeth were long enough to actually break skin, and he was rewarded by being dropped in an empty glass cup atop the counter.
"Biting people isn't very nice." Scar scolded, pulling up a stool and sitting down. His face was distorted by the glass, and Grian scowled back. "What even are you? I mean, you look like a person, but…well, you're tiny!"
Grian wrinkled his nose back, mimicking his words under his breath and turning to try and figure out a way to escape his imprisonment. Already, he could tell it wouldn't be possible. The walls were completely smooth, the glass slippery, and the top was several inches above his head. There was no way he was making it out of there without Scar letting him out himself.
"Listen, I know we got off on the wrong foot." Scar leaned forward, his nose nearly touching the glass. "My name's Scar, he/him. Oh wait, I don't know if you speak English. Do you speak English?"
Grian squinted at him for a few seconds before folding his arms. He didn't get to trap him and then expect an answer.
"I'm sorry about putting you in there." Scar added. "If that helps at all. But you kept biting me and I'm pretty sure you'll try to run away if I let you out, and I really want to talk to you. After all, you have been living in my house. I think."
"It's not your house." Grian grumbled, and he thought it was quiet enough that Scar wouldn't be able to hear it. Apparently, he was wrong.
"So you do speak English!" Scar slammed his hands on the counter, shaking the cup. Grian barely managed to keep his balance, and once the tremors stopped, he glared up at the human with more defiance than he probably should be showing.
"How long have you been living here for?" Scar asked excitedly.
"Let me out." Grian replied, folding his arms again.
Scar eyed him suspiciously. "You have to promise not to run away."
"I'm not going to do that." Grian shook his head.
"Well then, you're staying in the cup." Scar declared. "What's your name?"
"None of your business, let me out."
Scar leaned back in his chair, tilting his head to one side as he considered him. "You do realize I'm not going to do anything to you, right? Like…I get that you're a fairy or an elf or something like that, and the world doesn't know about you, and it's all supposed to be this big secret….am I on the right track?"
"How did you know that?" Grian replied, narrowing his eyes.
"Lucky guess." Scar gave him a grin. "It's like the plot to any book about creatures that humans don't know about. I mean, that is if there are more of you. Are you the only one of your kind? Because in that case, you might be a scientist or something who accidentally shrunk themself."
Grian mulled that over for a moment, examining Scar carefully. He didn't seem like he was going to sell him out, he had even said so himself, but something still didn't seem right. Humans were aggressive, violent predators that were obsessed with understanding the world around them. How come Scar wasn't jumping at the opportunity to present this new, never before studied species? How come all he was doing was asking questions about him?
"I meant what I said, by the way." Scar said softly. "I won't hurt you. Or sell you. Or give you to a museum. I mean, seeing as you speak English, you must be at least somewhat human. So I'm going to treat you like one."
"…why?" Grian asked cautiously.
"Because…that's what good people do?" Scar offered, shrugging. "You wouldn't see me turning in a normal person over to the government. Not that you aren't normal, but….well, you really aren't."
"I'll have you know I'm average size for my species." Grian scoffed, but he felt a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. It became even harder to hide his amusement when Scar laughed, even though the sound was too loud for his small ears.
"Fair enough, my good friend." Scar relented. "But seriously. I'm not going to do anything weird to you. I won't even kick you out. You've probably been here longer than I have. But, before I let you go back into the walls and I most likely never see you again, I would like to know your name."
Grian hesitated. In reality, giving him his name wouldn't do much. But something about it still seemed so…taboo. His entire life, he had been trained to never so much as leave a trace behind for humans to pick up on. Obviously, he had failed at that, seeing as he was trapped in a cup and holding a conversation with a human, but…his identity was something that he could keep to himself. Even if the human knew he existed, he wouldn't know anything about him. He would just know that he was three inches tall, wore a red sweater made from a spool of thread, and spoke English.
But on the other hand…it didn't seem like Scar would be letting him out if he didn't give him an answer. And truly…what harm could it do?
"Grian." He finally said. "He/him. Now can I go?"
"Nice to meet you, Grian." Scar reached forward, taking the cup. "I'm just going to tip it over, be ready."
He slowly turned the glass on its side, holding the bottom of it to keep it from rolling off of the counter. Grian skillfully moved with it, darting out of the cup in the blink of an eye and scrambling to the end of the counter.
"Woah, hey, no need to jump, I'll just carry you." Scar rushed over to him, holding out his hands. "I don't know exactly how much damage Katy did to you, but flinging yourself off of the counter definitely won't help."
"I'm not flinging myself off." Grian protested, but he stepped forward onto Scar's hands anyway. "There's a hole in the pantry, just beneath the lowest shelf."
"Is that where you've been coming from?" Scar asked, walking towards the pantry. "I didn't even notice there was a hole."
"You don't notice a lot of things." Grian replied snarkily.
"I think I've noticed more than you think I have." Scar said, kneeling down in front of the pantry shelves and holding Grian up beneath the lowest one. "See you later, Grian."
"No, you won't." Grian scrambled up and through the hole carefully carved into the drywall, feet landing on the staples that he had carefully driven into the inside wall to create a ladder.
"Mmm, I think I will." Scar stated. "Oh, and one more thing. Please don't steal my snacks."
"How can I?" Grian leaned out of the hole, meeting Scar's eyes. "You put them all in those containers. I've been living off of fruit the past five days."
"I'll leave some stuff out on the counter for you." Scar offered. "Stuff that you like."
"How could you possibly know what I like?"
Scar grinned. "Like I said, I've noticed a lot more than you think."
"Fine." Grian waved a dismissive hand. "But don't think you'll catch me again. You won't."
"Sure thing, Grian." Scar's grin stayed firmly on his face. "I'll see you later."
Grian scoffed, scrambling down the ladder without another word. Humans. Nothing but trouble, with their massive limbs and their loud voices and their annoying attitudes. He hated them and everything they stood for.
The smile on his face as he made his way back to his home said otherwise.