With the cat closing in, the tiny mouse managed to scamper beneath a door at the last possible instant, dropping several inches to the wide step at the top of the flight of stairs leading down into the basement.
The little rodent scampered down the sheer vertical faces of the steps without any visible effort until it reached the concrete floor at the base of the flight of stairs.
A few droplets of blood had formed on the mouse's injured tail that had been raked by the sharp claws of the terrifying cat. Deep in the gloom of the basement, in the shadows of huge crates and boxes, the little rodent managed to feel a moment of security again. Its nose twitched, but it no longer detected the warning scent of the predatory feline. Now that it knew the cat lived outside of the depths of the basement, the little mouse could stay put and not risk venturing back into the cat's territory.
That was all good for the mouse, but it was a disaster for Nathan. If he never ventured out of the basement, he would never get back into contact with the Chronivac. He would remain a mouse for the rest of his life.
For now, the tiny mouse scurried, fed, listened. Activity increased above stairs as Nathan's family gathered for their Christmas Eve, completely unaware that their former teenaged son was now a mouse, scrounging to eke out survival in their own basement.