The Pet: Story One

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

Daria paused, one hand poised to knock on Trent's door. Slowly, she lowered her hand and turned to face Jane.

"Why not?"

"It's not another girl if that's what you're thinking. No, wait. Actually, it is."

Daria raised an eyebrow. Jane nodded, more to herself than to Daria and leaned up against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Although, I don't know how he can stand to have her around. I mean I would have killed her by now. Just taken my shoe and-squish!"

Daria frowned and glanced between Jane and Trent's door. "Shoe? Squish?" Why did she have the feeling she was missing something here?

"And not to mention her little minions. They get everywhere! They'd drive me insane! I mean it-squish, squish, squish!"

"What are you talking about?"

Jane focused on Daria. "I think this is something you'll have to see for yourself."

"You just said not to go in there."

Jane shrugged. "Darned if you do, darned if you don't." She turned to go back to her room muttering under her breath. "I swear, though, if they get in my room, they will die. All of them. I'll hunt them down, one by one."

Daria watched Jane close the door behind her, still talking to herself. She stood in the hallway, wondering if asking Trent for a ride was worth whatever was behind that door.

"It can't be that bad," she said, reaching for the doorknob. "It can't be."

Still, it took her five minutes to get her fingers wrapped around the knob, and another five to turn it.

It was worse than she thought. There were piles of clothes everywhere. Plates with half eaten food littered the floor. Trent himself was asleep on his bed, head turned to the wall, one arm dangling over the edge, clad only in pants. The mess and Trent's disarray had nothing to do with the nausea that twisted her stomach and nearly sent her fleeing to the bathroom. The cause of that were the ants that crawled over everything. Little red ants. Millions of them. They moved in and out and around and under and over everything. Including Trent.

Daria put a hand on her stomach. 'Oh, god.' she thought. Then a mole on Trent's stomach moved. Daria focused on it. It was the queen, huge and fat and round. It crawled across Trent and down into his belly button where it made itself at home.

Trent grunted.

Daria gagged.

END