Swamped

"I think it was in Marshall's room."
"No, it sounded like Tom's room to me."
"Which Tom?"
"Oh, right. Eighth?"
"We were just there!"
"Ninth, then."
"Wait, I think I heard it coming from Mark's room."

Tom Eighth taps his foot impatiently.

"So no one actually has a clear idea on where the sound came from, then?"

Everyone shakes their heads.

"Right. Then we'll just have to pick a room and hope we find it. Juliet, take us to yours, we'll start there."

You have to admit you're a bit nervous about this, considering what you read in Juliet's book. Still, you were going to have to check the room sooner or later.

You head in, and you see a lot of Juliet's, um, artwork. It looks like it's been disturbed, but given her artistic style, you can't really say for sure.

"Is anything out of place, Juliet?" Tom Eighth asks. It seems he doesn't know either.

"Well, my muckdiver skeleton's been torn apart," she says.

"Muckdiver skeleton? You keep one in here?"

"It's a model! Made with plaster, not real bones. Though I think the greatrat couldn't tell the difference."

"Should I set out the bait?" Tom Ninth asks, holding up the pouch.

"In this mess? We'll be lucky to catch the rat again. We'll check the closet first, then see what we can do about the bed. Probably handle it the same way we did for my bed."

Everyone gets into position as Tom Eighth opens the closet. No greatrat pops out, but he does get buried under a pile of sketchpads.

"Yeah, that happens a lot," Juliet grumbles. "I'll pick them up after this is sorted out, don't worry about them for now."

"Right. The bed, then." Tom Eighth makes his way to the foot. "Conchway, you take the head."

Mark and Eighth tip the bed over, revealing a large hole under it.

"Well, shit," Eighth says. "This probably leads straight to the nest. We need to get word to Pest Control. For the moment, we want to block it up..."

"Um. I don't think now's the best time for that," you say, pointing at the greatrat that's just wandered in from the hall.

It's as fearsome-looking as you remember. It's at least as big as two of you, with enormous fangs and sharp claws.

"Damn." Eighth backs away from the bed. "Okay, we need to maneuver around and corner it so it doesn't escape. And be careful! Another one might come out from that hole."

"Good advice. So just how are we going to corner it?" Mark asks. "And what are we supposed to do about the hole?"