Happy Lovely Groundhog's Day

It was a very exciting day for the first graders of Chrysanthemum Elementary School. Today was Groundhog’s Day, and they were going to see a real live groundhog! The first graders gathered in the auditorium, their energized chatter reverberating throughout the room. Collective gasps were heard as a man and woman dressed in matching khaki pants and shirts walked across the stage, carrying a cage.
         
The man walked to the microphone and adjusted it to his height. “Good morning, boys and girls,” he greeted them with enthusiasm that the children were too young to detect was phony and overdone and that this man was extremely tired of this job.
         
“I can see that you all are very excited today,” he added. “Well, my name is John, and you get to see a groundhog today. If you would please, Brenda, bring Sammy over.”
         
His short, plump companion tied back her long ginger hair and picked up the cage, flashing a brilliant smile at the juvenile audience. The furry creature inside rattled around noisily. The children giggled and moved to the edge of their seats. “Here you are, John,” she said and gently set the cage down.
         
John opened the cage and picked up the groundhog. “This is Sammy. He is about 3 years old, and very friendly. He loves little girls and boys.” Sammy cuddled into John’s chest and purred, his small black eyes glowing and shining at John.
         
The miniature audience cooed and laughed. “It looks like a tailless beaver!” Such shouts were heard, the audience comparing the groundhog to familiar animals they had seen before, like a brown skunk, because it smelt funny, or the mangy dog their father hit on the way to school today.
         
Finally, the fateful words that would determine the social status of an individual or individuals of the first grade were near. “Would anyone like to touch Sammy?”
         
One hundred and forty eight small hands shot up into the air. Seventy three of those kids were jumping in the air, stretching their arms as far as possible. Twenty-two stood on their seats and were reprimanded by their teachers. “Me! Me! Please!” they shouted.
         
John hummed dramatically. Oh, how he loved the power he held over elementary children. “How about…you,” he pointed to a short little girl with two brown pigtails and a pink jumper. As she walked up to the stage, her peers shot looks of admiration and jealousy at her. She was oblivious, however, solely concentrating on the fact that SHE got to pet the groundhog, and she marched on.
         
“So, little girl, what’s your name?” John said monotonously. The power rush was over. He didn’t even care that the little girl responded chirpily that she was named Anita.
         
“So, Sammy just loves little kids. Go on. A gentle pat on his head,” Brenda said, John gingerly lifting Sammy out to the little girl.
         
The little girl smiled and took a deep breath. She slowly reached out an eager hand to the groundhog’s head. She softly stroked the head and Sammy purred, blinking when her hand got close to his eyes.

Everything was going so well. What happened next, nobody could explain. Sammy froze. Inside, his DNA was mutating. The soft, young, human flesh in contact with his fur, along with several environmental factors, such as the particular temperature of the room mixed with the heating of the stage lights, had awakened the deep, dormant, primordial carnivorous instincts from so long ago. Proteins denatured and nucleic acids reconfigured. Sammy growled viciously.

Anita gasped and jumped back a little, but it was too late. Sammy roared the groundhog’s ancient battle cry still unknown to ethologists and mammalogists, and jumped onto Anita’s face, viciously clawing. Bits of her pigtails flew to the floor, along with droplets of dark blood. Anita screamed and waved her arms frantically. “This isn’t good!” she cried. “I’m a hemophiliac!”

Sammy fiercely pulled out Anita’s left eyeball and chewed in a slovenly manner. Anita’s face was drenched in blood. She fell to the floor. John, meanwhile, had all this time been pulling on Sammy frenetically. Sammy turned and growled at Brenda, the new source of fresh meat.

Brenda and the audience screamed as Sammy chewed on Brenda’s eyeballs and tore apart her head for her delectable brains. She died screaming of betrayal and distrust. Children and teachers scattered around the gym like loose marbles looking for the exits, while avoiding Sammy, who was jumping from head to head.

The stench of warm blood filled the room and created deep puddles that running children slipped on. Cries for mommies, daddies, and God echoed and overlapped. Only two victims remained. John, and a little boy, both so near the door. John gulped and wiped his sweaty, bloody brow. “Sammy, I know you’re in there. Fight it Sammy. It’s me, John, your best friend. And you’re my only friend. Come on Sammy.”

Sammy cocked his head. He waddled slowly and awkwardly to John, purring. John smiled and held his arms wide open. “Thatta boy,” he whispered. Sammy stopped just in front of John. And then he jumped, and proceeded to devour his former best friend with tears in his shiny black eyes.

The last victim was still in the room. Sammy could smell him, and he could sense the heat. The little boy was at the door. He pushed hard, his underdeveloped muscles too weak to exert enough force. The door opened slowly, the lights of freedom from the hallway shining on his face. But it was too late. Sammy jumped upon his head and shredded his poor cranium. He fell forward, a scream cut short, his tiny hand reaching out beyond the door.

Sammy could smell the outside. The scent of sweat and saliva of walking humans saturated the air. But Sammy, being only a mere groundhog, could not get outside, as the door was only open the width of the little boy’s wrist that was stuck and keeping the door ajar.

Footsteps grew louder as they neared the door. The principal, a young healthy individual, walked briskly down the hall to check upon the progress of the assembly. He saw the little boy’s small hand reaching out of the door, resting in a pool of blood. His face paled and he rushed over, flinging the door open. Before he could do anything, Sammy jumped into action. Literally. He jumped onto the poor unsuspecting man’s face and proceeded to devour his eyeballs and brains. Tender, squishy delicacies.

The principal grabbed at his face, and fell to the floor, foot twitching. Then, Sammy jumped off, and escaped outside to the world.