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The rat froze.

The door at the top of the staircase swung wide, and something came down the stone steps on four long-clawed paws. A glimmer of light showed from the doorway, then the four-legged beast pushed the door shut with its rump and there was still less. The rat pressed itself against the wall. Better to be passed by while silent then to alert the beast with movement.

Unfortunately something alerted the beast to the rat's presence. Perhaps a whisker brushed his furry back as the muzzle went by. Perhaps the wet nose inhaled the scent of rodent. The rat only knew that claws as long as its body suddenly wrapped around it. Before it could twist around and bite the toes it was flipped into the beast's mouth.

Fangs crunched down and the rat should have died instantly. On either side of the beast's mouth were sharp interlocking teeth meant to shear meat from bone and a broad salivating tongue pushed the rat's little body between them as they closed. The rat should have been pulped, if not sliced in two. Somehow, though badly crushed, the rat lived on, its bones grinding together but not snapping. The breath rushed from its lungs as the beast bit down once, then again.

The failure of its teeth to reduce the rat to bloody shreds should have alerted the beast that something was wrong. A one-pound rat surviving the teeth of a beast five hundred times its size was not natural. It should have spat the rat out, or at least paused to wonder what was wrong.

But it didn't. It lifted its muzzle, tongue guiding the rat to the back of its jaws, and swallowed. The unnaturally resilient rat could only squeak and squirm in terror as it slid down the beast's slimy gullet. Bruised and battered by the teeth but very much alive it felt the swallowing muscles carry it along, and terrified and alone it slid into the beast's stomach.

The beast's teeth had only a small effect on the rat. It had assumed this little meal was tender and only chewed with part of its strength, hurting but not killing its prey. The rat's unnatural toughness let it survive that treatment but it seemed that toughness did not extend to acid. It slid into the fleshy folds of stomach and was instantly coated from nose to naked tail with thick caustic slime. Its fur provided only a moment's protection before soaking through and it tingled all over as the beast's stomach set about digesting this small morsel.

Panicking, the rat thrashed about, trying to find a way out of the hot slimy trap. It could feel the beast moving, walking, and then sensed it flop down on its side. With a weary sigh the beast settled down to sleep and the terrified squirming inside it didn't disturb it at all. The little rat was snapped up and eaten in passing and no amount of struggle from such a tiny creature could make the beast heave it back up.

There was just one thing left to try, one spark of hope in the hot sloshing dark. The rat steeled its resolve and called on its powers. It might seem a mere rat, but its small form was just a disguise, a form it took to make others overlook it as it prowled. The rat concentrated, and grew.

One moment there was a one-pound rat squeezed in the folds of the beast's stomach, the next there was far more. Not just a rat now, but a rat-man, small by human standards but still a hundred times as massive as its previous form. Slack folds of fleshy stomach stretched taut as a bulge grew in the beast's furry middle. No more was a mere rat inside it, but now a five-foot-tall rat man, or at least he'd have been five feet tall were he not squeezed into a tight ball by the walls of the stomach.

The sleepy beast should have been shocked awake by the suddenly expanding prey inside it. It should have woken in pain, stuffed to bursting. The rat man tensed, ready to worm his way back up the thing's gullet as it lay in sudden pain, stuffed full of too much food.

But just as the rat was no normal creature, it seemed neither was the beast that snapped it up. As the terrified were-rat struggled, trying to either squirm his way back up the throat or find a fold of stomach to bite, powerful clawed forepaws wrapped around the beast's newly bulged middle. It reacted to the bulge and struggle only out of habit. Mostly asleep, scarcely aware anything odd was happening as it was well accustomed to meals this size, it wrapped its paws over the bulge and squeezed until the rat was trapped in the sloshing folds, barely able to move.

The rat-man tried to struggle, tried to fight. He had little time for either. He was already bruised by the beast's gnashing teeth and from the moment he arrived in the stomach the acid had done its work. He did not have the resistance to acid that he had to physical damage like fangs and the teeth had squeezed the air out of his little rat lungs before he even went down the thing's throat. When he opened his mouth to suck in a desperate breath, all that came in was acid.

If he had reacted faster, changed in the beast's mouth or throat, things would have been different. But he hadn't. Squeezed between the things spine and powerful forepaws, stung all over by the growing burn of acid, the rat only had the strength for a moment's further struggle. The gurgling dark closed in, and distantly the rat-man heard the beast belch.

*****

Bartleby the badger woke to the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Sleepy, he yawned as the familiar steps approached, and he pressed against the hand that stroked his neckfur. He was half curled up in his sleeping basket and he knew before he opened his eyes that it was his girlfriend who woke him.

"Good morning," he growled, and peered up out of the padded basket at Maris. The muscular half-orc woman wasn't pretty, with broad blunt features and plentiful scars from her younger days, but what is human beauty to a badger? He didn't care that by human standards she was homely. He cared that he liked her very much and that her stocky, powerful form made her very good in bed. Bartleby slept with many ladies just to scratch the itch all males develop. He slept with Maris because he liked her.

Maris for her part looked down at at enormous badger curled up in a six-foot-wide sleeping basket. The strong rattan was lined with cushions all laced to the frame, so Bart could lean it against the basement storeroom wall out the way when he wasn't using it. While easily big enough for a 500-pound badger, anyone sharing it with him best be comfortable with the thought of being pressed up against a warm furry beast. She'd been in it many times when they weren't on an actual bed in one of the inn's rooms. Then there were the times they rutted on the floor, on the balcony, or behind the bar. To a big four-legged beast like Bartleby, a bed was a luxury for sex, not a necessity.

Bart followed her gaze to his belly, expecting to find she was eyeing the long ridge of sheath and morning-wood pink tip. He was surprised to find he couldn't see it past an unexpected bulge in his middle.

"I see you found something to eat last night," Maris said. "Good. I heard you got called out for that fire and worried you'd miss dinner."

"I did miss dinner," the badger growled. He peered quizzically at the bulge and pressed it with a paw. Six-inch claws on a paw big as a man's head pushed into the bulge and a sloshing noise resulted as whatever half-digested meal lay within shifted.

"Doesn't look like you did," Maris grinned. "Move over, I've half an hour before my shift -"

"Maris," Bart said as she made to join him in the basket. "I'm serious. The bar was so busy last night all I had time to eat was some scraps Alma put on a plate for me." Alma was another of the bar's bouncers, like Bart and Maris. "Then I got called to fire duty and I didn't get back until the middle of the night. I was starved but all the food was locked up for the night so the guests don't get in it. The only thing I ate after midnight was a rat I ran into on the stairs."

"A rat?" The half-orc peered at the bulge. "That's not a rat. That's big enough to be a whole person. Woman, maybe." Familiar with Bart's eating habits, having seen him swallow a particularly violent bar patron whole and having seen him after he "badgered" a criminal in the course of other job as a city guardsman, Maris reached down and felt the bulge.

"Skull," she said as the bulge shifted under her strong hand. Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe not human. Feels like a muzzle. You sure you didn't eat a dog on the way home?"

"I didn't. It was late but not that late." A bubble of air that somehow lasted this long in his belly was worked loose by her hand and Bart burped.

"I should really report this, figure out what happened," he growled. "Maris, I -" his growling voice became a plain old growl as her hand stroked along his sheath. Normally it hid in his fluffy belly fur but he was already half erect after waking and this wasn't helping. A pink tip appeared from behind the bulge.

"You could report it right this second," Maris said, and hiked up her skirt so he could see she wasn't wearing anything underneath it, "Or in a little while."

"A little while sounds good," said the badger, who while a reputable member of the city guard, among his other jobs, was still a healthy young male. He rolled onto his back, his long flank-fur spreading out to fill nearly the whole basket, and growled as Maris straddled him. It wasn't the first time they'd fucked while he was full. It was just the first time he didn't know what he'd eaten.

She impaled herself and his forepaws went over her thighs as she began to bounce. Maris was tough, but his claws were long and sharp and she got some scratches by the time they were done. That was one thing he really liked about Maris. He didn't have to treat her like a delicate crystal sculpture the way he did most women.

*****

"Just a rat?"

"Lieutenant, you know I don't eat people for no reason. I don't even eat dogs for no reason. And when I eat someone I report it. That's the deal."

The guard lieutenant nodded. Bart had come up the stairs after his morning nookie and found Lieutenant Haversham eating in the inn's common room. Convenient.

Bart could eat troublemakers at the bar if they were nasty enough. It took a lot to push him to that point. The last time it happened...

Bart was sitting on the opposite side of the booth from the lieutenant. Big as he was his legs were short and his claws hung clear of the floor. The bench seats in the booths weren't sized for badgers big or small.

"Lieutenant, remember that guy who provoked me into eating him? He showed up later through some sort of resurrection magic and got that wemic to eat him too."

"Wemic? Oh, that lion...taur guy. Don't get many of those. Not even here." The lieutenant gestured at his surroundings. The Cracked Flask Bar and Inn attracted many unusual visitors to the city. Some had fur and some had scales and some came here to meet to meet the furry and scaly ones. Some of them came here just to see Bart, even.

"You think maybe someone crawled into your mouth when you were asleep? Some crazy guy like the one you ate?"

Bart shook his head. "I had a really long day yesterday. Guard shift, then bouncer, then I got called by the fire crew. I was really tired and really hungry when I got in. But I wasn't that tired and hungry. I just can't figure it out."

"I think I can." Both looked up, or rather down in Bart's case. A short, sharp-featured woman with a prominent pointed nose was standing by their table. She was less than five feet tall and had short, dark hair.

She tapped the table next to Bart's elbow and he butt-walked his way further into the booth so she could sit next to them. They made a comical pair, a badger who stood seven feet tall on his hindpaws and a woman less than five. There was no way to keep his abundant flank fur from brushing against her. Thankfully she didn't seem to mind.

"I came to meet with my brother here yesterday. We were on caravans going to different cities but we knew by our letters that we'd both be in Verbobonc for a day. He wanted to stay here, this inn. I have a good idea why."

She turned where she sat and looked up at Bart. He turned and looked down at her. He must weight at least five times as much as she did, not counting the bulge.

"What?" The badger growled. "He was a tourist looking to see odd creatures? We get a lot of them."

"You fuck a lot of them," the woman said without rancor.

Bart gestured with a paw held low to the table. "Please. Not everyone wants to hear that over their breakfast. Yes, I sleep with some of them. They come here to be badgered, I badger them. They don't pay me to do it. It's just," he shrugged, "Sex."

"Not against the rules," the lieutenant said. "Well, not against city rules." There were certain churches in town who didn't think much of interspecies...anything.

"Only the women, though," the woman continued. "My brother likes big, beastly men. He knew you wouldn't be interested in," she looked around, "Sleeping with him. But he wanted to smell you, see your bed." She shrugged. "I'm not a hundred percent sure. But I'd bet my next month's pay that he went down to that store room you sleep in."

She continued before Bart could open his mouth. "I heard him ask where you sleep. We were in the bar last night. It was so busy you probably didn't see us."

"He went to my room? Just to see my bed?"

"Not just to see it," she said. She lowered her voice. "If you smelled your bed carefully now, I bet you'd find...someone else's scent."

"I would have noticed," Bart growled. "I can smell when someone's been in my bed. I know when someone touches it, much less sleeps in it."

"Would you?" The woman smiled and passed her hand in front of her face. Like a conjurer's trick, her eyes were ink-dark and whiteless when her hand had passed. "Even if it was just a rat?"

"The rat," Bart growled. It was suddenly clear what happened. "You're were-rats. I ate your brother thinking he was just a rat."

She shrugged. "My brother was an idiot. He was probably also looking for things to steal, but mainly he wanted to find your bed and rub himself off against it. He's done it before with other men he wanted but couldn't have. I kept telling him it would get him killed."

"So I ate him as a rat, then..." Bart gestured at his belly. "I was so tired last night I must not have woken up when he changed shape."

"I thought only silver could kill a Were. And magic." The lieutenant thought. "Well, you aren't immune to other attacks, right? Just resistant. And Bart is very strong."

"Resistant to being chewed," the were-rat said. "I bet you snapped him up, thinking he was just a common rat. You were hungry, and when you go around on all fours I bet a lot of rats end up in your belly. He probably survived being chomped on once or twice, then, thinking he was just a plain old rat you swallowed him. And we aren't resistant to acid."

"Oh," Bart looked down at the table. "I do remember the rat was tough. I was tired, I was hungry. I eat rats when I find them in the storeroom. I never thought I might eat a person doing that."

He looked both sad and relieved. At least he knew what happened. "I'm sorry about your brother."

"Miss," the lieutenant said. "We can go before the magistrate, but I can tell you what he'll say. Eating rats is not a crime. It's a desirable thing, most would say. Eating a were-rat would be, but Bart had no way of knowing. If your brother knew Bart slept in that room then he was taking his life in his hands going down there as a rat small enough to fit in a badger's mouth."

"I know," the woman said with crooked smile. "I'm from a big family. Most of my brothers are idiots who think with their dicks. Ignatz isn't the first one to get killed doing stupid shit. It was only a matter of time, really."

"So you don't want to press charges?"

"No charges," the woman said. "No point. Ignatz got himself into this, he can get himself out."

There was no talking of Raising Ignatz. It didn't cost all that much to bring someone back from the dead when the body was more or less intact. Bringing someone back when all that was left was a sloshing mass on its way through a badger would cost a whole lot more. Bart had some money saved but not nearly that much, and was glad he wasn't going in front of a magistrate.

It wasn't the first person he'd eaten, it was just the first one he ate by accident. He felt bad about that, but there was plenty of guilt to go around.

"See you tomorrow, Bart." The lieutenant excused himself and left. As per the agreement between the city guard and fire marshal, Bart had the day off from guard duty due to his overnight fire crew work. Even a tough badger like Bart needs to sleep sometime and he was hours into what would be his shift by the time he woke up.

Bart excused himself as well to visit the privy. The board seats were not designed for a badger's butt any more than the booths were and he balanced himself against the wall with a paw as part of what used to be Ignatz disappeared down the drain. Rats often sneak into houses via the sewer pipes. Today one was leaving the same way. In several batches, the soft, easily digested tissues now, the bones later as they dissolved in their turn. Mixed in with both would be brown rat fur.

Bart didn't bother looking into the hole before turning on the water to flush used-to-be-Ignatz down the pipes. His morbid curiosity didn't extend that far.

When he got back to the common room he was surprised to see the were-rat woman still seated at the booth. He slid as awkwardly as always onto the bench seat across from her.

"Again, I'm sorry," he growled. "I do eat people, but only when the city has me do it, or when someone causes a lot of trouble here at the bar. I don't eat people just because they annoy me and I wouldn't eat someone if all they did was sneak into my room. If Ignatz had talked to me, well, I'm not a hundred percent adverse to men. Maybe we could have worked something out."

"I'm talking to you," she said. "I'm Clara, by the way."

Bart watched her eyes, which were back to brown human ones instead of inky rat eyes, make their way down his belly. Propped up on the bench seat like this, the bulge at the top of his sheath showed above the table.

"Clara." He wasn't sure what to think. He ate her brother, and now she was sending him signals. "You're talking to me...the way I said Ignatz should?"

"Ignatz was an idiot," she said. "But he and I had something in common. He liked big beastly men. So do I. He snuck into your room and saw your bed. Why don't you show it to me too?"

"I probably shouldn't do this," Bart thought as he padded four-footed through the basement door with her. His claws clicked on the stone just as they had in the dark. Now there was light. He could see who was on the stairs with him. A woman changing as she walked, turning from sharp-nosed and homely woman to a rat-woman. A rat-woman who, truth be told, appealed to him more than her human self. At least she had proper fur now.

"This is a bad idea," he thought as he flipped his bed down from the wall, letting it land on his broad strong back then slide off onto the floor. Otherwise it made a bang they could hear upstairs.

"I shouldn't trust someone who cared so little about her brother being eaten," he thought as she stripped off her dress. He remembered the taste of her brother, and decided to taste her too. Just a little, just a few licks, as she did the same for him.

"I should at least be gentle," he thought as he mounted her, her crouched on hands and knees in his bed. "I don't want to hurt her."

But when she guided his cock with her hand until it sank in beneath her tail he remembered how tough and gristly the other rat had been in his mouth. After that he wasn't gentle at all, which was just what she wanted.

In the end what Bart got out of that odd day was a meal, a trace of lingering guilt, and most surprising of all, another regular girlfriend he didn't have to treat like a crystal sculpture.