Venatus and the Indoor Prison I

 

Venatus flew around the dead squirrel that lay on the ground by the balcony door to the humans’ home. The human girl’s cat had a tendency to catch prey and not eat it. Instead, she left it at the humans’ door as a gift. However, he’d noticed the humans were not quite pleased with most if any of the gifts the cat brought. Venatus had no idea why cats would let such spoil go to waste, but they did, and it was his job along with the other flies to get rid of it. At least before the humans could take it away.

He landed on the carcass and got to work eating. He didn’t pay much attention to the birds singing, or the crows cawing, or the crickets chirping, or the mist that hung in the air. That stuff wasn’t important. Even the other flies weren’t that important. What was important was his survival, dead carcasses, and dung, and that was all that mattered to him.

More flies buzzed around him, trying to get in on the meal. As the sun rose into the sky, the air grew warm, and the squirrel started to smell. The door opened, and the human girl stared at the rodent. Venatus and the other flies buzzed as they flew about in a frenzy. Sometimes the slightest movements scared them, for fear of predators.

“Ugh, not again!” the girl said. “Dad!”

Venatus flew away. He didn’t want to stay near the girl. He’d go south, towards the woods, and come back for the meat later. But in his haste, he went north, not south. He felt a sudden change in the air, a sudden coldness. He heard the door shut behind him, and the girl’s footsteps as she went away. He saw chairs and couches, which were like the ones on the porch but different in color and they had more cushions.

Where was he? He flew around the area. There was fruit, but it was in a bowl atop a flat rock, and there was a large, silver rectangular box sitting beside another flat rock and some small doors that hung up on the wall. Maybe storage compartments? The sky wasn’t blue anymore. It was beige. At least not in the area he was in. Further off southward, he could see the blue sky and the green forest.

That was when he realized the truth. He wasn’t outside. He was inside. Inside the humans’ house. He landed onto a high, flat rock next to the fruit bowl. Was this a good thing, or a bad thing?

Maybe a bad thing. He had wanted to eat some more of that dead squirrel before the human came for it. Maybe he could fly out of the window and go back to it. He began to prepare himself to fly when a thought came into his mind. Why not explore this place? After all, he could always leave later. And it wouldn’t hurt to see what things looked like around here. There would be other dead squirrels and mice anyway, so long as the humans kept their cat.

So he flew around the house, looking at the potted plants, the couches and chairs, and sometimes landed on the fruit in the fruit bowl to eat. He determined that the area with the large rectangular box was the humans’ storehouse, since he could see and smell that there was more food there. He also saw some other flies buzzing around, and they all ate any leftover food they found before being chased away by the humans.

“It’s not so bad in here,” he heard one fly say. “I may stay here for a while.”

Maybe I’ll stay here too, he thought, as he buzzed around another area which had a big table, but not much food around. Perhaps another eating area.

Then he smelled it. Meat. Delicious meat! And bread. A sandwich! He flew back into the storeroom. Yes! The man had made a sandwich, and by the smell of it, it was bologna. He knew the man would probably chase him away, but he was too hungry to hesitate or care. He landed right onto the sandwich. For a second, he enjoyed the bread and meat.

“Hey!” the man shouted.

The next second, Venatus flew off the sandwich just as a hand swiped at him.

The human yelled. “That does it!” He left the kitchen.

“Great!” Venatus said. “More food for me.” He landed right back on the sandwich, but as soon as he did, the man came back. This time, he held a strange stick.

He swung the stick at him, and he dodged it, flying back into the air. It wasn’t safe here anymore. I’ll go somewhere else. But as he flew away, the man kept following him, swinging his stick at him.

Swat! Swat! Swat!  Went the stick as the human flailed it around.

 He needed to get out of here! Where could he go? There was a plant in a pot, a trash can, some trees—trees! Ahead of him was a window! He could fly out through the window. He was done being in the humans’ house. He wanted to be outdoors again.

He flew to the window as fast as he could, the stick narrowly missing him again and again, the air of each swing blowing over and below him. The trees grew closer and closer. Within seconds, he would be free! He reached the window, looking forward to the warm air and the smell of dung and carcasses and—

He hit something square in the face.

“Ow! What in the world?!” He tried to escape again, but he banged into something. “What is this?” He crawled up the hard, clear surface. It was some kind of invisible force field. Maybe I can break through it. He banged against it again and again, but the strange force field wouldn’t budge.

Rage bubbled within him. He tried to escape through the second window beside the first and then the third window beside the second, desperately trying to break through, but it was no use. His body began to tremble. If he couldn’t get out this way, then…was he trapped in the house forever? No! I have to get out! This has to be the way out! He buzzed as he banged into the window again and again, until he couldn’t anymore.

He sensed something. Something moving fast.

Then it hit him.

The stick hit him.

His mind became a muddle of mud. He lost his grip on the invisible force field. Everything was a blur. “That’s what you get!” a booming voice said. As everything around him faded to black, he felt himself falling, falling, falling…