Hickory was born first.
Eyes bulging beneath closed lids.
Subdued by her ordeal.
Dickory followed twenty seconds later. Larger by several grammes.
Twitching whiskers and thrashing tail.
Her eyes a stigmata of blood.
Doc left the birth rat a lifeless husk.
Already alert. She watched. Her heaving slimy hackles raised.
Pink-red eyes aglow. Knowing.
The laboratory technician surveyed the carnage.
Cloned ears lay ripped from backs, and Doc had somehow levered her huge body between the bars of her prison cage. Her appendage was a bloody stump.
He stared in disbelief. Even at her death, was she grinning?
Author bio: Ray is still writing for "The love of it " and is actively seeking assistance to increase his web presence. Surprises are on the way.