Wrong Girl, Right Cat, Right Time

It has been three months since my incident with the mimes, things just wacky since then. And then I met HIM, and what a dream. Right now I am curled up on my Papasan chair scratching Puddles’ ears, while Karl watches from my bed. He’s coming over tonight, just when its starting to get cold.

I love this time of year. Leaves changing, sweaters, pumpkin spice. It was warm today, so my windows open. Then, all of a sudden, a wickedly chill breeze scratches across my arms, raising what little hair I have and sending a twitching chill down my spine. Reminds me of that scary movie I watched last night.

A strange thought pops in my head, looking over at Karl grooming his orange fur. What if scary movies were from the perspective of cats? How weird would that be?

****

Damn that girl. Sometimes you really get screwed on the feline lottery. Some get Fancy Feast every night, have their bellies scratched and have feathers to chase at their whim. Others, get stuck with a dumpy human with a retarded dog and smelling of processed meats but maddeningly somehow never having any treats on them.

Sure its better than living on the streets, but not much. She feeds me regularly, but its a dry kibble. I will have to file a complaint. She doesn’t clean the litter box enough, even with Puddles sneaking off and snarfing down my turds like its his last meal. The fact that she lets him lick her face and mouth every time afterward just sickens me.

Chihuahuas are so annoying.

Charlotte, my dumpy human, calls this an apartment. Its barely big enough to run around freely at night. It gets even smaller when more humans come over. Sometimes its a bunch of girls, who spend the time crying and drinking something called wine while they complain about guys. Other times its a human man, and they go into her bed room making awkward animal noises for no more than twenty minutes. Most of the time they leave before the sun comes up.

The vast majority of these guys ignore me, which is fine. The ones that don’t, often give me a scratch on my head or chin, and rub my belly. Unfortunately these ones never come back. Charlotte spends too much time with that mutt, so these often are the few times that somebody touches me. Say what you want about us cats, nothing is as good as a great petting.

Charlotte is babbling into her phone, talking about some guy who is coming over tonight. I guess I can make myself presentable. I need to get my coat into a nice sheen. Maybe this one will pet me. I won’t beg for it, I have my pride.

I jump down to the floor, and head to my bed in the corner near the closet. She is going to try out outfits soon, and those discarded pieces of clothing are going to end up on her bed. When she first brought me here, I decided to treat them as toys, which led to Charlotte screaming at me for putting holes in her “favorite” dress. Haven’t seen her wear it since, but whatever. So, my bed is positioned so I can see whats going on, but out of the way. I wish she would put it on the top of the tower, but just like the meat smell, she remains stubbornly unaware of what my careful explanations mean.

Puddles waddles over to the bed, farts, and looks at me like I did it. “Karl, did you do that?”

Stupid fucking dog. He knows what he is doing. Charlotte seems to think that by changing my diet, she can make things not smell. She should start with herself. Unfortunately, the food only gets worse.

After jumping out of the shower, she starts putting on clothes. It is this point that the other Charlotte appears. Her twin sister, who doesn’t smell of treats, comes over. Ever since the night I met Charlotte, the night of the mimes, her sister has appeared frequently. I don’t know if it was that way before, but she had no idea that her sister leds some sort of active life. She smelled of the streets, blood and salt.

The sun went down by the time her sister left, and there was a knock on the door while I was eating my dinner. I didn’t bother to look up, but I heard some human words, Charlotte telling us to not wait up for some reason, and then the lights were turned off. I jumped on the counter when the door closed. There was something strange on the air, something I didn’t like.

I had to kick Puddles out of my bed, and back into the kitchen not long after that. Charlotte would need to wash it to get that smell out. I found a good spot on the couch so I could express my disappointment to her when she got home. He knows better, but she lets him get away with so much. The wind rattled outside, and my eyes closed.

Somehow I slept through them coming back. I say them, as they were in her bedroom, door closed and animal noises coming out. Puddles sat at the door, whimpering. I hissed at him, and he ran for the bathroom. Too desperate mutt. Dogs were so pathetic.

I would just have to wait for him to leave, and then I could demand my bed to be cleaned. I waited patiently on the couch, but he didn’t exit. The noises stopped, and he didn’t emerge. Shocking, but it didn’t thwart me. I would be heard. I went to the litter box, did my duty, and glowered at Puddles. The little shit waited just outside the room for me to finish.

Her bedroom door was still shut when I got there. Not to worry, her door has a handle that I could reach up and pull down. A good stretch, and I grabbed it, and with both paws pulled down. The door swung open without a sound, and I trotted in, heading for the head of her bed to sit and wait for her to notice me.

I stopped. Charlotte was asleep in her bed, like always. The man, though, was standing at the foot of the bed, staring at her. His rear end was covered, but there was no other human clothing on him. I froze, turning my ears towards him. I could hear shallow breaths. I inhaled, and a strange smell flooded my nose. It was foul, even worse than Puddle's sour stomach.

Something was wrong. Humans usually didn’t smell that bad, but maybe he hadn’t showered. Humans were not great at grooming either. And they had less hair to worry about.

But something told me not to interrupt. I could sleep on the couch, so I backed out. He never turned around, and I made no noise. I curled up in the corner of the couch, keeping one ear towards the bedroom. If there was any noise, I would know it.

***

I woke to a stench. Puddles had shit all over the floor. He huddled in a corner of the living room, tongue hanging out. Charlotte was humming, picking up his crap with a paper towel. I yawned, stretched, and went back to the bed room.

That smell was gone. I let her finish with poop scooping and then explained to her that my bed needed to be washed. She smiled and nodded, but made no move to clean up that travesty. Things were back to normal.

She left, and returned several hours later. She was chattering into her phone, talking about what a wonderful night she had, and that he was coming back tonight. She would be making dinner for him, and needed to prepare. I rubbed against her legs, lightly scolding her that my bowl was near empty.

She didn’t immediately refill it, for which I put my best scowl on. She managed to get some kibble in it right before there was a knock on the door. She opened it, and that smell returned. He didn’t look at me, and I could hear Puddles whimper under the couch. I climbed up my tower, so I could observe at a distance the two of them.

He had dark hair, brownish skin and spoke with smooth tones, but there was something that I didn’t like about it. I couldn’t believe that she couldn’t smell it, but Charlotte made baby noises she normally reserved for Puddles, who for the first time since I knew her, didn’t look for him at all. She didn’t even call for him when she returned home.

I made up my mind to watch him. At some point they would go into her bedroom and close the door. I could get in there, but if they didn’t lock the door. If they did, I couldn’t keep an eye, unless I was already inside. When she started picking up plates, I made my move.

As stealthily as possible, I climbed down my tower, and made like I was headed for the little box. I detoured into the bed room, and found the closet door open a crack. I shimmied myself inside, and waited.

I didn’t have to wait long. They entered the room shortly after, and closed the door. “Lets not be disturbed tonight,” his honey words sticking in the air. They removed their clothing and climbed into the bed.

I had never watched humans having sex before. Weird. Even when the lights were turned off, I could see everything. She made all the noises like she enjoyed herself, as did he. But there was something off about him. They couldn’t finish soon enough, and they collapsed on the bed.

I waited. No human has the patience of felines. Our ancestors spent hours waiting for our prey to emerge, and the night was the perfect time for a hunt. My eyes remained locked on that bed. The moon shone in the window, the wind howling outside. I started to get comfortable when something stirred.

He got up, and stood again at the foot of the bed. Unfortunately I couldn’t see his face, as he stood between me and the bed. I needed to get to the other side, to see him, but there was too much light. I needed to wait for more darkness.

The moon set, plunging the room into inky black. It was hours later, and he still stood there. It was time to make my move. I left the closet, crept along the baseboard, and crouched under the night stand. I peered out and could see him clearly.

His human face was gone. Except for his mouth, curled into a Cheshire cat grin that stretched from ear to ear. Strange things pulsed underneath his skin of his chest, like worms digging through dirt. His fingers hung loosely at the end of his arms, narrowing to points that looked sharper than my own claws.

Cats are predators, but we are also prey. I felt both at that moment. If I had been a Doberman, or German Shepard, I would know what to do. Dogs get that protect their human thing down. But what could I do? I could watch. And I did until the first rays of dawn pierced the darkness, and he slid back into bed with her.

***

They both got up at the same time, and went into the bathroom together. The noise of falling water reached my ears. I made my exit from the bedroom, and ran to get Puddles. Maybe he would know what to do. Certainly all dogs would protect their masters.

Puddle's eyes said everything I needed to know. We’re fucked. As scared as I was, the mutt was traumatized. I poked my nose out from under the couch to see him leave. His eyes met mine, and every hair on my body rose. He couldn’t come back.

Charlotte hummed and ignored my hissing, meowing and every thing I could think of to tell her to not let him back. She left without understanding, as she normally did. That meant I had a few hours to prepare. Something told me that I would need every minute.

We normally don’t tell humans this, but there is a call we give out to let all felines around know something is deeply wrong. It sounds like a yowl, but only animal ears know better. Dogs will bark, birds will twitter, squirrels will do whatever the hell they do, but the cry for help is answered. It wouldn’t go far just in this apartment, so I had to get a window open.

I pushed and pushed, and by midday, I got one in the bedroom open enough. I let it rip, a caterwaul so powerful I could hear humans bitching about it for blocks around. The howl danced on the wind, with each adding their song to mine. I was about to repeat it when the window slammed shut. “That wasn’t very nice kitty cat.”

He stood there, Charlotte behind him. I don’t know how he snuck up on me. His normal for now human hands lunged for me, definitely not coming in for a petting. I sprung directly up, barely escaping his grasp, and darted through Charlotte’s legs. I raced for the narrow slit under the conch, going all the way to the back. His pursuit ended there, hands grasping at their length to snatch me.

I could hear Charlotte whine, and he pulled back. “Make sure you lock the door tonight. We don’t want that cat to interrupt us.”

I had to get in there. But he went to the bedroom door and stood guard. I couldn’t get passed him. And once Charlotte and him went in, she would be on her own.

I was wracking my considerable feline intellect for a plan when that beautiful bastard Puddles came to our rescue. He, emerging from my litter box room, with a belly full of my fresh shit, waddled over to our nemesis, and promptly vomited a large load of my feces on his shoes.

“Motherf-” He planted his foot squarely into Puddles, careening the Chihuahua across the hall yelping. “PUDDLES!” screamed Charlotte. He immediately moved to console her, leaving the door unguarded. I moved straightaway for under the bed.

I didn’t have to wait long before they came in, and the lights turned off right before the sounds of coupling began. I crept out, and headed for the door. I had work to do while they were busy. The door was locked, but on this side I could open it. I turned back, making sure I wasn’t spotted.

I reached up and pulled the handle. I opened it as little as I needed to, and squeezed out. I ran for the front door. This door also had a handle, but it was much heavier and a chain was in place to keep it from opening all the way. I jumped up, and with all my might I pushed down on the handle. It opened a crack, but then my ears picked up a gurgling noise from her room. I couldn’t wait.

I zoomed back, to see him, sans face, holding her above the bed. The foul smell flattened my whiskers, and he grinned at me. “What do you think you are going to do kitty cat?”

I hissed at him in my biggest voice, my hair standing up on its end. I could see her eyes, eyelids flickering as he choked her. “You will die next cat.” One of his fingers grew long and sharp, and he dragged it down her chest, red blood leaking out behind the cut.

He wasn’t the only one with sharp claws. And I hadn’t been declawed. I leapt directly at him, all twenty out and ready. He swung with that hand, but like all humans he could never match a feline for speed. I landed, and dug in.

He screamed, my daggers ripping his rancid flesh easily. He grabbed me, pulling me off and throwing me against the wall. I twisted in the air, landed against the wall with all feline grace I could manage, and resumed my attack. I sped around them on the bed, and jumped on his back, adding more deep slices to him.

He dropped Charlotte, who began to gasp for air. He violently tried to grab me, and I knew that this time he wouldn’t throw but crush me. I resolved myself to do as much damage as I could before that happened, so maybe she could do something. And then it was done, he had my tail, and yanked me around to face my doom.

It didn’t come. They did. The room filled with cats of all sizes, who joined the fray. They clawed, they bit, they drew blood anyway they knew. I managed to squirm away, but he claimed others, their backs broken as he grabbed fir and twisted.

But at the end, he collapsed to the floor, red stained fur and flesh coating the bedroom. Deep within him a rage mournfully howled, and then his body melted into the carpet. I perched myself at the edge of the bed, making sure he was gone, and looked over at Charlotte. I licked my paw, and in no uncertain terms explained to her that my bed still needed to be washed.

***

WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?!! Where did all these cats come from, and I can’t believe Karl saved me, from whatever that was. I petted him, and he seemed to appreciate that. I’m gonna have to buy the good food for him now. My sister is never going to believe this.