I’ve heard them for all of last week. Crackling noises. Every night. My bathroom doesn’t have a window. There it also happened during the day.
I don’t know where it started. I remember hearing it while I was making dinner. Then again while watching TV. It was faint, like a piece of paper being blown with the wind. But it was there.
Probably an open window. Something being blown around. At most a mouse. That’s what I thought.
Then I found the mouse. In a moment there was a crackling or rustling sound behind the sofa. Then a squeak. When I pulled the sofa away she was just lying there. The blood was still flowing out of the body. The head was ripped off. Or maybe bitten off.
For three weeks the war has been going on and nobody seems to have noticed.
It seems surreal when I’m on my way to the entry, the armor already on my body and the weapons hidden in the back.
The only thing people seem to have noticed is the smell. I overheard a few comments, my neighbor even went up and down our apartment block to check for a fire. Of course he didn’t find any. I’m wondering whether it really is in the air or whether it’s just in my clothes.
Of course not just the fact that this war goes on in secret – this whole situation seems surreal. For the last six years I was an exterminator, killing bug infestations, extended cockroach families and wasp hives most of the time and the occasional small mammal invasion. And then I’m pulled into this.
It started three weeks ago, on Tuesday afternoon, with a phone call. The caller, a male with a military tone, asked to be put through to the business owner. Ten minutes later we sat in the truck. Thirty minutes after that we were strapped in body armor. After two hours each of us had their kit complete. The main part is a small flamethrower.