Rich Bell sat studying at the small table in the abandoned warehouse. The light from the battery-operated lamp was barely enough to review for his exam on Monday. This short-term job would produce a nice chunk of change to pay for his second-semester books, rent, and a few Christmas gifts for his family. It was creepy at times, alone throughout the nights. The monkeys he was babysitting were mean and screamed nonstop. When the screaming stopped, he hoped they were settling to sleep. It was difficult to ignore the ruckus while he prepared for his exams.

He grabbed an orange and walked over to the crates holding the animals. He had bonded with the one whom he called Cheeta. She was sitting near the front of the crate, giving him a look. She seemed to be smiling. She winked at him and gently reached out to take the orange. When he reached to hand it to her, she took it ever so gently, cocking her head as if confused with the situation. He lifted the lid and reached into the crate. He knew opening it was not allowed, but he felt he had a friend and comrade in this shitty place for a moment.

In a flash, she grabbed his arm and crawled up his body, screaming and lashing out at his face. Rich grabbed for the knife from the sheath fastened around his ankle. He struggled to reach it while fighting the monkey’s advance. She slashed at his face with her clawed hand while he continued to fight her. The fight with the animal moved across the floor to near where he had been studying before he finally got a grip on the knife. His hands were now dripping in blood and slippery. He held tight to the weapon while plunging it into the advancing monkey’s back.