Roger wasn’t much for animals. They didn’t like him and he didn’t like them. Every dog he’d ever tried to pet had either run or bit him. Cats clawed him and even birds pecked him.

Which is how he knew something was wrong when he woke up with a mouse sitting on his nightstand.

“Go away” he said. It didn’t move.

“Scram.” Roger sat up and waved at it. It washed its whiskers.

Roger eyed the clock and then looked out the window. It was past eight but still dark out. Odd. Roger watched the mouse carefully as he stayed outside arm’s reach of the mouse while getting up.

He grabbed his things and headed to the shower without taking his eyes off the creature until he left his bedroom. Stayed facing him the entire time.

When he came back, it was still there. He combed his hair in silence, still watching the mouse that moved only to rub its whiskers.

When he couldn’t take it any longer, Roger stepped forward, grabbing a book off his shelf. “Get out of here now or I’m going to smash you!”

The mouse paused for a moment, and then resumed rubbing its little face.

Roger moved to the bed, put the book down, and picked up a pen. When he poked the mouse, it squeaked and then continued washing its whiskers.

Roger bent over to look at it and whispered half to himself. “What the hell are you doing, little guy?”

“Distracting you” said a small voice behind him. By the time he started to spin around, the horde of mice was crashing over him.

The last thing he heard as darkness swallowed him was a small voice saying “At last, the prophesied hero has fallen. Soon, so will all the other Humans.”