Cats Are Different
It’s spooky season and with all things horror, I felt it would be appropriate to share a scary story. Some days I don’t feel like writing, on those days I force myself and write whatever comes to mind. What you’re about to read was a manifestation of a rainy day, Enjoy!
It was 3:30 in the afternoon when Brett felt the pressure on his chest. As is typical of their nature, cats step in all the wrong places. Brett felt as if his ribs would snap at any moment but he patiently waited and pretended to sleep in hopes she would rest under his arm like she usually does. “Cats feel energy” Brett’s grandmother used to say between drags of an unfiltered Lucky Strike. “They’re not like us. They see the world as it is. They sense things.”
She’d continue for an hour or so until the gin and tonic (mostly gin) got the best of her and she’d suddenly start snoring, lit cigarette still in hand.
The cat continued to wander sniffing a trail leading to Brett’s face. Her whiskers tickled Brett making his nose scrunch. In his best effort, Brett tried to contain his laughter hoping not to disturb the cat only prolonging the process.
Brett felt a rough tongue scraping against his cracked lips. The hooks in her tongue pulled at his chapped skin stretching it until it recoiled back.
It was at this moment Brett realized he only had one cat and that cat was soundly asleep cradled under his left arm. Brett wondered for a moment if this was a dream but it felt so real, he felt, present.
It was only after Brett didn’t arrive for dinner that his brother found him, lifeless with a smile on his face. The cat still cradled under his arm.
Brett’s lips were chapped and cracked. Blood dried in the creases.
I hope you enjoyed!