I Am a Pest Control Specialist, Let Me Tell You About the Ants That Saved My Life

“How did he die?†I paused before I signed the document, “If you don’t mind me asking.†They were required by law to inform me of the death of a previous tenant, but they didn’t have to tell me how.
“Suicide,†That was the only word the apartment manager offered in explanation.
I signed the rental agreement and slid the paper back towards her. The apartment was too cheap to pass up. I wasn’t worried about it being haunted or anything. I didn’t believe in ghosts. I only asked out of morbid curiosity.
I moved in two days later. That was when I first noticed the strange ant walking along the seam of the counter. As a pest control specialist, I thought I knew every species of ant in the state, but I didn’t recognize this one. It was small, even by ant standards, and was a vivid red color, like blood.
I watched as it ran over to the window and escaped outside through a tiny crack in the frame. Even though I was an exterminator, I still had a lot of respect for the creatures I was expected to eradicate. If there was a way to humanely remove them and keep them from coming back, I would do my best to find it.
Unfortunately, ants were one of those pests that couldn’t be removed easily. Once they established a colony, there was no telling how big it was. Some species have been known to create colonies that could stretch for miles. Killing part of the population only forced them to pull back and regroup so they could try again later.
I made a mental note to keep my eye open for any signs that the little ant’s colony had infiltrated the apartment. I didn’t want to spray if I could help it. That **** is dangerous. I already spent a good part of my day around it, and would like to avoid it in my home if possible. Thankfully, there were several other ways I could pest proof my new home before resorting to chemicals. I would start by getting the maintenance man to come out and seal all of the cracks around the kitchen window.
One ant was not an invasion, but it was a sign that they might be looking to acquire some new real estate, someplace with easy access to food and water. I planned on making sure they chose somewhere else.
The reason I moved into that cheap rundown apartment was because I wasn’t very good with money. Truth is, I had a bit of a gambling problem. Not the casino kind of gambling, my problem stemmed from betting on sports games.
I had a really great system that worked for a few years and then I got cocky. I placed a bet on what should have been a sure thing and lost big. Then I started to place bets in desperation, hoping to recoup my losses, but I just dug myself in deeper until I lost everything.
That forced me to live paycheck to paycheck with a good chunk of my income going to pay off my last failed attempt to recapture my winning streak. That is also why I moved. I was hoping to delay my next payment to Antonio, the loan shark I borrowed money from. I was going to low for a little while. I just needed an extra couple of weeks to scrape together the required amount.
A couple of days after I called the office about getting my window repaired, the maintenance man showed up. When he walked into my apartment, he set his tool box on the floor, opened it, and pulled out a caulking gun. “You’re not going to call me every time you find a crack in your apartment, are you?†He was obviously annoyed at me.
“Excuse me?†I was a little put off by his comment.
“These apartments are old. It doesn’t matter how many times I seal the cracks, they will just keep opening up. I just hope you aren’t one of those people who are going to call me every time you have some minor problem like this.â€
“It’s the kitchen window,†Was the only thing I said in response.
He walked into the kitchen and started to caulk around the window frame. I could tell by how quickly he finished that it was going to look like ****. I guess I was getting what I paid for. I should probably be happy it was even being repaired.
When he was done, he started to let himself out of the front door, but turned back to look at me where I watched from the hall, “You know about the old guy that killed himself in your apartment, right?â€
“Yeah,†I figured he was just trying to rattle me.
“Did you hear how he did it?â€
I shook my head and glared at him. I didn’t try to hide my annoyance.
“He filled the tub with pesticide, the kind that comes in those big gallon jugs you use on your lawn, and then took a bath in it. He used to complain about his apartment being infested with ants, but I never found any. Dude was crazy, probably high from all that meth smoke wafting up here from the junkie downstairs.â€
He was referring to the young lady that lived in the apartment beneath me. I figured she was an addict based on her pale gaunt appearance and sunken eyes, but I have my own vices, so I’m not one to judge.
The maintenance guy had some nerve. I decided I was going to call him every time I had a problem, no matter how small it was. If my toilet made noise, I was going to call. If my lights flickered, I was going to call. If my next door neighbor farted, I was going to call and complain about the smell.
After the maintenance guy left, I got to thinking about what he said. Why the hell would someone poison themselves like that? You’d have to be insane to sit in a tub full of poison. That made me want to scrub my bathtub and I probably would have, if I had anything to clean it with. Instead, I opted to rinse it with hot water a few times.
When I moved into the apartment, I used all of my vacation time so that I could lay low while I saved up enough money to pay off my gambling dept. I thought it was a good plan, but I didn’t realize how resourceful Antonio was. The day after my payment was due, there was a knock on my door. There wasn’t a peephole, or a window I could look out of, so I wasn’t able to see who it was before I answered it. I didn’t expect them to find me so easily.
“Hello Steve,†Antonio said, “You weren’t thinking of trying to skip out on your payment were you?â€
I wasn’t afraid of Antonio he was a scrawny little weasel of a man. The man I was afraid of was the Neanderthal named Roland that stood mutely behind him. Roland was Antonio’s enforcer.
“No,†I said as Antonio pushed his way past me into my apartment. He was followed by Roland who shut the door once he was inside. “I had to move. I wasn’t making enough to cover rent at my old place and what I owe you.â€
“That right?†He knew I was lying, “Because it seems to me like you were trying to hide.â€
“I wasn’t…I swear,†I pleaded with him. “I just needed a little extra time to get the money together. I was going to pay you.â€
“I want to believe you…I really do. But I feel like I just can’t trust you anymore. If you needed more time, all you had to do was ask and we could have come to some sort of arrangement.†His idea of an arrangement was to add a fee onto what I already owed him.
I didn’t respond. If I opened my mouth to say anything it would have just ****** him off even more.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous. I will give you until this time tomorrow night to come up with the cash,†He then started to walk towards the front door. As he walked past Roland he said, “Show him what will happen if he doesn’t have it.â€
Roland didn’t hesitate. He walked right up to me and punched me in the gut. He didn’t stop there. When I was doubled over, he brought his fists down on my back. Then when I fell to the floor he proceeded to kick me. I just curled up into a ball and took it. If I were to try and defend myself he would only beat me harder.
I didn’t hear them leave. My ears were ringing and my pulse was pounding irregularly in my ears. I only knew they were gone because the beating had stopped.
I managed to bring myself to my hands and knees as I struggled to stand. Before I could get my feet under me, I was flat on the floor again. Something didn’t feel right. I couldn’t focus my thoughts and my heartbeat seemed off. It would be racing one second and then it would stop for a second or two. When that happened there was a shooting pain down my left arm. I’m having a heart attack, I thought as I clutched my chest.
I struggled to get up. I needed to find my phone and call an ambulance. But the pain was too great and I couldn’t orient myself or remember where I put my phone. As I lay there dying, I remember looking at the floor and seeing a tide of tiny red ants rushing towards me. They were coming out of every available crack and crevice in the floor and walls. Even they knew I wasn’t going to make it. They’d probably devour half my body before someone came to check on me.
I gave one last effort to try and stand, but it was too much. My head spun and my vision dimmed before it faded to black. The last thing I remember was the feeling of thousands of tiny feet as they marched up my arms and legs and across my face.
I awoke with a jolt. I had no idea how long I was out. I was just thankful I was alive. I sat up and leaned against the wall. I expected to be in more pain than I was but there was surprisingly little. There was however this strange buzzing noise in my head. It sounded sort of like distant static. I figured I likely had a concussion and the noise was somehow caused by that.
I tucked my legs underneath me and slid my back against the wall until I was standing. I should be dead. I was sure I was having a heart attack. I placed the index and middle fingers of my left hand to the side of my neck to check my pulse. I couldn’t find it. I tried the other side of my neck. Then I tried my wrist. I could not detect my pulse.
That was when I also realized that I hadn’t taken a breath since I woke up. I stood there and counted the seconds while I waited for my lungs to demand I breathe. They never did. I had no heartbeat and I wasn’t breathing. I was dead.
I stumbled into the bathroom and stared at my reflection. I was incredibly pale and my features were sunken in a bit. As I watched, an ant crawled out of my nose then ran across my cheek and into my ear. Normally, such a thing would have freaked me out and I would have quickly flicked the insect off, but I had the feeling it belonged.
I also had the strange feeling that I really wanted to drink some water. This seemed to be indicated to me through a fluctuation of the background noise in my head. I can’t really describe it any better than that. I turned on the faucet, cupped my hands under the flow of water and proceeded to drink until I got the feeling I had enough.
The feeling of thirst was then replaced by one of hunger. I walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinet doors. As I scanned the shelves, I could feel another presence in my mind. That is what the static was. It was trying to decide what we should eat. I reached out and grabbed the jar of peanut butter once a decision was made.
This part might disgust a few of you, but it felt natural to me. Instead of eating the peanut butter like normal, I just spooned it into my mouth and held it there on my tongue. A few seconds later, a large mass of ants descended upon it and carried it off in small pieces to feed the rest of the colony.
This all felt perfectly natural to me. When the ants moved into my body, they must have somehow connected me to the hive mind. I knew what the colony needed when they needed it. When the impulse to do something came, I didn’t hesitate to act. Everything was for the greater good of the colony.
I think I was starting to understand what had happened to the previous tenant. This was a bizarre way to live and I’m not sure I could handle it. If the colony had tried to move into him, his bizarre method of suicide made a lot more sense. For the time being, I was happy to be alive and was willing to see how this arrangement would work out.
Out of curiosity, I grabbed a knife from the drawer and sliced a short but deep cut into my wrist. I was not surprised when a river of red ants poured forth from the wound, instead of blood. I watched in amazement as some of the ants used their oversized mandibles to pinch the edges of the wound together while the others secreted a dark substance over the damaged flesh.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at my door. I opened it to find the neighbor that lived beneath me standing in front of my apartment. The one the maintenance man had referred to as the junkie. She looked pale and gaunt, just like me.
Welcome to the colony, I heard her voice in my head. I’m Abigail.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise, Can you hear me? This is so weird. I projected the thoughts at her. Sorry, I’m Steve.
I heard her mental laugh as she smiled at me. I can hear you. We all can, she raised her arms to the sides with her palms up.
Is everyone in this complex part of the colony? I thought her gesture was meant to encompass all of the apartment buildings.
She laughed again, No, just the tenants in this building, she clarified. If you ever need to reach one of us, all you have to do is think about it and we will hear you.
It felt good to know there were others like me; that I wasn’t alone. Then I started to think about the events of the previous night and the threat posed by Antonio and Roland. They would be back just like they promised and I didn’t have their money.
You don’t have to worry about them, Abigail read my thoughts. The colony provides and the colony protects.


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