From Hell in the Burrow

“We’ve got a ‘nother one, sir,” said Constable Wilhelm Maniculatus, his whiskers ablaze with activity. “A mess, like the others. A ‘nother Ripper slaying, sir.”

“Damn,” sighed Detective Liam Leucopus, idly stroking his hairless tail. He paused, the tension becoming tangible. “The body?” he finally asked.

“Like the others, partially devoured,” came Wilhelm’s reply.

The third, thought Liam, the damn third slaying and no clues yet. The City and Her mice couldn’t take much more of this.

“I’ve gotta go to the Ruling Council,” Liam stated. “You find out if another letter was delivered to the Press. And then get some rest; we’ll be rounding up the House of Onychomys tonight.”

“Sir?” asked Wilhelm, his right ear folding downwards slightly, which Liam knew indicated that his old friend was confused.

“They’re cannibals, Wilhelm,” Liam said, turning away. “They’re the closest thing to a clue we’ve got.”

Neither mouse noticed the rodent on membranous wings flutter between rooftops, its work for the night done.

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