When the officer ripped the material wider, a horrifying nest appeared. 
A colony teemed inside — dozens of rats, with squirming newborns, tiny writhing grey knots squeaking miserably.
“How did they even get in?” the wheelchair-bound man whispered, his face drained of color. The dog barked wildly, lunging again, but the policeman restrained him.
Even he, though hardened by duty, was stunned at the infestation. The very sofa where the family had sat for years, watched shows, greeted visitors, had been transformed into a breeding den for vermin. The wife broke down at last, trembling violently, almost screaming:
— “We’ve been sitting on THAT?!”
The officer answered solemnly:
— “Yes.
But we’ll deal with it now. Your house won’t be theirs anymore.”
Only then did the couple truly grasp that the noises haunting them for weeks had never been imagined.
