The first rat we found, with bulging eyes, we found in my little sister’s room. It made hissing, scratching noises, trying to claw its way out through the floor with its worn-down claws. My sister came straight to the abbess and me. We touched the rat with a firepoker, but it refused to come out from under the bed. We had to torch it.
I guess whatever pestilence was eating its skin thrived in smoke. There were ten coughing, panicked rats the next day, and now my sister is afraid of something invisible. She won’t come out of the bathroom.