Strange sounds emitted from the closet, little whuffing sounds, almost indiscernible to the human ear. It was as if a giant rat were sifting through the shoe boxes, searching for who knew what. Shelia craned her neck in the direction of the noise, curiosity getting the better of her. Then she remembered. It was the creature. The latest in a string of oddities her husband had 'made'. Little experiments that needed constant care and guarding. She was sick of it. The initial fear left, to be replaced with disdain.

She wasn't afraid when she'd been imbibing though, not really. The sounds that filtered around the mansion were just that, sounds. And she was used to them by now. She tippled over toward the door, her wine glass held daintily in her left hand as her right cradled her left elbow. It was a stance of authority. One of 'no fear'. She tapped the bottom of the closet door with the pointed toe of her high-heel, while at the same time allowing a raspy giggle to escape her throat.

"You just stay in there, you little SHIT!" Smiling to herself, Shelia thought her husband's creations were nothing short of nasty little rodents. They should all be exterminated. But, alas, he still somehow believed he was a scientist and would make billions of dollars someday. It was yet to happen, of course. He was a dreamer, and no one believed him anyway. He had actually taken the one called Haggerty to the local university for examination, and the professors had run him off, a mere laughing stock. So, the latest creature shuffled around the house, nosing into everything, being a general pain in the ass. Mrs. Oppenheimer retreated to her plush bed, sinking down into the expensive goose down comforter to finish her glass of wine. And as she dozed off, the thing called Haggarty peered around the door of the closet, her black eyes glinting with envy and hatred. She waited, the moment had to be just right. And Haggarty had all the time in the world.


Outside, the Mercedes pulled up, opulence exuding from every corner of its design. The man who guided it toward the huge garage was hidden behind dark glasses, his demeanor completely hidden and unobservable by any happening passerby. He smiled. There was his best friend, his dog-boy cross, the genes of canine and human had merged very nicely after years of trials. It greeted him with its slobbering tongue lolling sideways and huge paws scraping the side of the car. The man was unaffected at the scratches on the fancy car. This one was his best creation yet. He only wished the world appreciated his work.

"HEY, how are you, old boy? You ready for a jaunt?" Mr. Oppenheimer grabbed a lavish leather leash and led the doglike animal out behind the house, where they disappeared into the surrounding woods. A blue-jay called out in alarm at the sight below his perch and took off for a higher limb.

Above the scene, from one of the many elaborately arched windows, Shelia Oppenheimer watched with disgust. And she sensed a presence behind her. It was Haggarty,of course, and she felt like taking the pitiful monstrosity and throwing her off the nearest cliff, out into the ocean waves. What good were these creatures if no one saw them? If no one appreciated what it took to bring them into the world? She bit her lower lip, thinking of how to get just a bit of normalcy back into her life. She could see no way out. Her feelings were a conflict between hate and admiration for the things that roamed the estate. But it was not a good life anymore. They had lost two maids in the last year. It was a miracle that the place hadn't been raided. Who knew what was to happen. She slowly turned ... "Why, Haggarty, are you hungry? Is it time for dinner already?" The creature sat, so perfectly still, so unmoving as to be a simple statue ... watching with unfathomable eyes. And there was no way to read its thoughts. Haggarty growled, or was it a purr? Mrs. Oppenheimer couldn't tell. It never failed to unnerve her though, and she walked by the thing and down the steps to the kitchen. It followed. Silent and graceful, the teats swaying back and forth, unnatural and weird, Haggarty came into the room. And hunched down, mewling with sly submissiveness as Mr. Oppenheimer opened the back door.

"THERE you are, dear! Whew! I thought you were lost. This one you call Haggarty is hungry. Will you take her outdoors, John? I really don't feel well. She will do better with your help this time."

"They will have to be returned to the pens. Come, Haggarty. Time for dinner and sleep." Mr. Oppenheimer clicked his fingers and Haggarty inched forward, all the while, glancing side to side, as if searching for something.

"John, can't we get rid of them? They are just costing us money. And I never see you anymore." Shelia whined, and twirled her hair. She really was tired of playing second fiddle to the things.

"I may have a buyer for my work, Shelia. Then we can retire. He's a government man. They'll pay the big bucks. This may be our chance, love. Just hang in there, okay? Come on, Haggarty. Come on." Finally beast and man exited the glowing room to the garage, leaving Mrs. Oppenheimer alone again. She was pouring another glass of wine, when her husband's screams ripped her world apart.

She stood, stunned, unbelieving. She could hear Mozart on the brand new Bose, but it didn't register; not really. All Mrs. Oppenheimer could hear was the terrible scratching and gnawing at the kitchen door ... Haggarty was still hungry. And she wanted in.