Two mice were scavenging for crumbs, when they were suddenly attacked. A claw came hurtling through the air, catching one of them off guard.
The claw sent searing pain through Mita’s side. The sudden shock was eclipsed, however, by the existential dread that washed over him as he beheld his predator’s hungry gaze. Here was death, the end, in the flesh. Mita turned to his his side, and, with the last of his breath, screamed at his brother.
“Run, Krodha!”
Krodha turned back just once, in time to see his brother fall limp, impaled by the fangs of the beast that had been hunting them. Heart beating in his chest, he sprinted as fast as his tiny legs could carry him, until he finally found shelter in a small pipe. Curling up in the damp tunnel, he cried himself to sleep.
The next day, Krodha burst into his clan’s den, his eyes glinting with malice, and his countenance cold as death. His fellow clan mates, seeing that his brother had not returned with him, were silent. Every little scratch, every tiny movement, was audible in the hushed atmosphere.
“Enough is enough.” Said Krodha, finally breaking the silence. “The predator is evil.”
An old mouse, the oldest of all, sat in a corner, shaking his head at these words. Though his movements were subtle, Krodha spotted them.
“You disagree, old one?” Asked Krodha, his tone confrontational.
“The predator has brought us much pain, of that there is no doubt,” Replied the old mouse, “Even so, you must not be so quick to judge.”
“Fool.” Spat Krodha. “The predator only exists because it kills. It is an abomination.”
“This world is far more vast and complex than your eyes can see, Krodha.” Replied the old mouse, his countenance remaining calm.
“You’re saying that what the predator does is not wrong?” Asked Krodha, incredulous.
“Perhaps it is, Krodha. Even so, you must learn to forgive, or you will never find peace.” Said the old mouse.
“Peace?” Roared Krodha, his sudden shout rousing the entire den. “There will never be peace until the predator is dead!”
Most of the den were roused at Krodha’s words, and broke into a great cheer. Some stood and sharpened sticks, others began scrambling to find supplies. The den would unite. The den would hunt. Predator would become prey.
Krodha watched their proceedings, smiling to himself. He walked away to grab his weapon of choice, past the old mouse, looking back to see his expression. The old mouse was staring him directly in the eyes, his face a mixture of sadness and disappointment.
“You have lost your perspective.” He said, his voice barely a whisper.
Ignoring the grizzled old mouse, Krodha grabbed a sharpened stick and called to the den.
“Brothers!” He cried.
The den turned in unison to face him.
“Tonight, we take matters into our own hands.” He cried. “Tonight, we end the beast that has plagued us once and for all.”
With great embellishment, Krodha then dipped his stick into a bowl of poison, inviting his brothers to do the same. One after another, they prepared their weapons for the hunt. Their eyes cried for justice, their voices sang for blood. Many had watched their fellows die to the beast. Many were ready to watch the beast suffer, to make the beast pay.
“The beast is evil, and deserves to suffer.” Thought Krodha. “What perspective could possibly change this?”
All night, the mice labored to set up an elaborate trap. They constructed and maneuvered a large net over a precipice. At the foot of the precipice was a sizable hole, which they carefully covered with long sticks and leaves. When the trap had been laid, the den lay in wait. A few scouts, the fastest among them, scurried to attract the predator.
Krodha sat at the top of the precipice, watching, waiting. He turned to his side, surprised to find that the old mouse had appeared, as if out of nowhere. The old mouse’s face expression had softened.
“Your intentions to save lives are not wrong, Krodha.” Said the old mouse.
“I am glad you have come around.” Laughed Krodha.
“Even so,” Continued the old mouse, “Your hatred poisons you.”
“The only poison here is the poison on my spear.” Said Krodha, lifting his weapon for emphasis.
Soon, loud squeaking could be heard in the distance. The scouts were running, the predator not far behind them. They deftly scurried over the covered pit, their bodies too light to break the cover. The predator pounced, hurtling straight towards the scouts, and landed. Its face broke into shock as it broke through the ground, then twisted into pain as its feet hit the spikes beneath.
On the precipice, the mice threw their net over the predator, causing it to panic and lash out in confusion, which only further ensnared it. In one furious mass, the mice charged, a hundred poisoned spears lunging at once. As they reared back for a finishing strike, Krodha shouted for them to stop. The predator was still, barely breathing, slowly dying from the poison. Krodha walked slowly towards it, eyes blazing.
“Did you think I would give you a quick death?” He hissed.
The predator let out a weak whine.
“You disgusting thing.” Said Krodha, jabbing the predator with his stick.
Then, in a fit of sudden rage he, jabbed the spear into the predator’s mouth and slowly tore it out. The predator gagged, coughing blood and spittle. Krodha whipped the spear against the predator’s face again and again, as it writhed in agony. Then, with a piercing scream, he stuck the spear in the predator’s left eye, making sure the entrance was dirty and slow. With its one remaining good eye, the predator looked at Krodha, weeping, shivering, and afraid.
“Now there will be peace.” Said Krodha.
With those final words, he stabbed the predator’s remaining eye, banishing it to the darkness. The mice were silent. A chill fell over the air as they left the predator behind, and returned to their homes. They were no longer hunted, but there was still a predator among them.
Somewhere nearby, a little human girl came running to the scene. She had been woken up by a frightful commotion, and intended to see what was going on. Her anguished screams soon pierced the still night. For before her lay her tiny kitten, broken, bleeding, and blinded … crying for its mother.