CockroachMature

Jandrova awoke with a start. He looked around at his surroundings, and realized that he had been sleeping at his desk. He was inside of his office at the 13th Precinct Station. Feeling a migraine coming on, he put a hand to his forehead.

Jandrova had been dreaming. In his dream, his Uncle Paris had been on top of him, mocking and gloating his nephew. "You're dirty, Sinclair, you're dirty!" Only his uncle had called him Sinclair, his middle name. Paris was several years dead, but the image was as vivid as if he was there in the flesh. "Dirty, dirty, dirty!" Shouting at the top of his effeminate voice, taunting over and over. But in reality, it had been Paris himself who was dirty, wasn't it? Always touching and kissing and loving his sweet little nephew Sinclair, and at night-

He shook the memories off. Truthfully, he did feel dirty. So often lately everything seemed to be unclean and outcaste. He looked around at his office. Everything was either rotten or covered in a moist slime. The walls ran a sickly green trail, the floors were covered in shades of brown and black. Dirty. Jandrova went back to nursing his migraine.

Off to the side, a small, high-pitched noise cried out. Jandrova raised his head painfully, and saw a tiny white mouse looking for food. It was somewhat remarkable, that a mouse could have such unblemished white fur among such filth. A wave of sympathy and amusement swept Jandrova. He pulled out a (clean) packet of crisps and tossed a few to the mouse. The creature thankfully nibbled at the morsels.

Within seconds, the mouse was set upon by several large cockroaches. The vermin fought and clawed at the white mammal, stealing the alms it had been given. After the insects devoured the crisps, they set upon the mouse, tearing through its pure fur with horrendous chitinous pincers. The entire struggle went on for several minutes, and when it was done, there was a small spot of blood where the mouse had been.

Jandrova sighed at the tragedy. He pulled several pills out of a phial in his drawer, and then lay his head on his dirty desk in despair.

The End

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