It was the Friday before Halloween, and squirrels were scurrying across the street without the fear of cars. They were digging in the grass, trying to add to their collection of food before winter. It seemed like a perfectly normal day for the Bradley squirrels.
I was heading to my last class in Bradley Hall, when I looked up at the gargoyles and noticed something strange.
There was a squirrel perched on the head of one of the stone creatures. I tried to rush inside, but I was too slow.
The vermin shrieked and landed in my hair.
No one would help me as I became a helpless victim. I fell down the steps and struggled on the ground until the squirrel leaped from my head and took a chunk of my hair with it before jumping off to search for its next prey.
It took all my strength to rise to my feet. I anxiously grazed the back of my scalp where I found a wet, bald spot. Looking at my hand, I almost gagged as I realized it was covered in red. I gazed up, realizing other students were being attacked by these brown-tailed monsters.
Instead of going to class, I escaped to my dorm and tried to stop the bleeding. I wrapped my wounds and slowly climbed the ladder to my bed to take a well-deserved nap. I thought I had found solitude, but I was greeted by glaring eyes in the window. I wasn’t even safe in the room I call home.
I ran down the stairs, trying not to tumble down the eight flights. Out of breath, I made it to my car. I was headed down University Street when a squirrel made its way onto my windshield. It bared its razor-sharp teeth and made me swerve the car. I turned my wipers on, flinging the creature onto the sidewalk.
I turned the radio on full blast, hoping my favorite station “Poprocks” would get me through the three-hour long drive to my hometown.
As I pulled into the driveway, I was greeted by my dog’s familiar bark. Suddenly, I heard the menacing growl that only meant one thing…
She was trying to warn me of a potential threat. The scariest of all dogs’ enemies.
A squirrel.
More bushy tails than I could count charged out of my car. They were shattering the windows and freeing themselves from their hiding places. I don’t know how they went unnoticed during the drive.
I could feel their claws digging into my skin. Their screech was deafening. I tried to put up a fight, but they hung on despite my attempts to swat them off.
Fortunately, my brother always had repellent on-hand.
The rats of the trees scurried away as the spray began to suffocate them; hopefully for good.
Relieved to finally be at home, I took a shower and bandaged my injuries. I went to bed; yet, I couldn’t escape those red, beady eyes.
Wherever I looked, there were squirrels staring, planning and trying to find their way back to me.
I didn’t want to leave the comfort of my neighborhood, but Sunday afternoon rolled around, and it was time to head back to the squirrel infested campus. Even though going back to where it all began was bound to get me killed like every other horror movie character, I had no choice.
As I pulled into campus, I didn’t see any students. I tried calling my friends, but no one answered.
I was all alone.
I walked around the quad to look for someone, anyone, but I stopped dead in my tracks when I heard chattering coming from the trees.
Before I could make a run for it, I felt the claws on my back.
Soon, I was covered in vicious rodents. No one was around to hear me scream as their little knives carved into my chest, clawing at my eyes, ripping at my flesh…
Then, I woke up.
