My Life with the Centipedes

Waging War on the Most Surreptitious, Organized, and Dangerous Terrorist Organization Since the CIA

I moved into a house almost two months ago.  There are four people (including myself) living in this house.  There is a dog, two cats, a sugar glider, a tortoise, and a leopard gecko.  There also happens to be an infestation of centipedes.

My current reconnaissance estimates their numbers at somewhere around 5,000 strong with more babies being born every day.  They are raised to be unfeeling killers - myriad-legged monsters with a taste for Flesh.  What a fool I was to think I could defeat them with anything less than biological weaponry.  Indeed not.  They reproduce too quickly, and soon enough, the entire house will be overrun with these things.  You can hear them scuttling underneath the floorboards, squeaking orders to the children, preparing them for their rise to military dominance.  I have never seen such ruthless efficiency, and I am convinced that they are evolving.  Even the spies are beginning to look like beheamoths as they cling to the walls motionless and entirely unafraid of the Giants cohabitating their would-be kingdom.  I know that when the final onslaught comes, we will all be goners - the cats, the dog, the humans.  The other animals having a fighting chance, though.  They feed off of insects, and in the tortoise's case, he has a nigh impenetrable shield.

But this didn't have to be a war.  I was ready to make my peace.  As long as these bastards stayed in the kitchen or the den - as long as they kept within their walls, I was prepared to let them live (without paying rent, mind you) in harmony with the rest of us.