Dark Cat, Dark Fate

Rose’s eyes followed the dark cat as it padded silently along the rotten, moss-covered log. It paused at the end and glanced back at Rose.

She turned towards it, curious, keeping her eyes glued to the black cat. Its green eyes seemed to stare straight into Rose’s soul.

Rose had started her hike a few hours earlier, and a few minutes ago she had spotted the cat. It had stayed with her, often vanishing in the thick forest, then reappearing just as suddenly.

It mewed at her, and Rose took a step towards it. Could it be a lost pet? Rose tried to think if she had seen any ‘missing pets’ signs recently. She couldn’t remember.

Rose stepped closer to the cat again. As if encouraged, the cat stepped forward a few paces, further into the forest. Rose walked a few more steps and so did the cat.

I shouldn’t be doing this, said the sensible part of Rose’s mind. You should definitely be doing this, said the non-sensible part of her mind. Unfortunately, Rose chose to listen to the non-sensible part of her mind.

The cat darted off into the forest, and Rose jumped after it. It seemed to have vanished. Rose looked around, then, not seeing anything remotely close to black, or furry, gave up the short search.

So the cat didn’t want Rose after all. What did that matter?

Rose turned back towards the path to continue her hike, but a flash of black caught her eye. She whirled around. On a branch about Rose’s height the black cat perched, watching her with calculating eyes.

It leapt off the branch and landed gracefully on the ground, stalking away as soon as its paws touched ground.

Not even thinking she might get lost, Rose followed, pushing aside the thorns and branches that reached out to cut her.

Countless times the cat vanished completely, but it always reappeared quickly. Rose was sure it was trying to lead her somewhere. Or maybe it was just trying to get away from her. Rose was pretty sure, though, that the cat could have already easily gotten away from her.

“What do you want?” Rose asked softly. The cat didn’t pause, or even glance back at the sound of her voice.

For a while they trekked through the forest, getting farther and farther away from the hiking trail. Rose didn’t even think of that as she pushed through the dense brambles.

Her eyes were always on the cat’s back, or on its fluffy tail that twitched constantly.

Rarely it stopped and looked back at her.

Finally it stopped, twitching its tail, standing erect, looking regal and imposing. Rose stood behind the cat, panting slightly, hands on her knees. She knew for a fact that she did not look regal.

The cat mewed softly, then jumped off its perch on the rock and set off again, heading off to the left. Rose straightened and followed.

It was peaceful under the trees, the birds chirping ceaselessly, and Rose was glad to be alone there. Alone except for the cat, of course. It suddenly stopped, and then vanished, to Rose’s dismay. She stepped back, blinking. She hadn’t imagined the cat, had she? No, it was real. Those mews were real, along with the soul-piercing look. Rose couldn’t have made that up. And besides, cats could move like light, here one minute, there the next.

She dropped to her knees and started bushing aside the undergrowth, scarcely knowing what she was looking for.

Rose moved forwards a bit, seeing a large rock covered in lichen ahead and wondering if the cat could be hiding behind it. It could have darted behind pretty easily.

The cat wasn’t hiding behind the rock, but something else was. A huge, gaping hole that yawned into the earth. Rose stumbled back. It looked wrong. It even felt wrong. It disappeared so suddenly into such a complete, inky darkness that Rose was taken aback.

She thought she had seen pitch-darkness before, where she couldn’t see her hand if she waved it in front of her face, but this was something different. It was a kind of black you couldn’t find anywhere else, that seemed to swallow anything and everything. An endless night.

Green eyes suddenly blinked out from the cold, unwelcoming darkness.

“So this is where you went,” Rose whispered, crawling forwards. The cat moved forwards a few steps and Rose was able to see it again. More then its eyes, anyway.

“You don’t want me to follow you into there, do you?” Rose asked the cat, hating the tremble of fear in her voice. She knew the cat couldn’t understand her, but it was comforting to hear a human voice, even if it was only her own. The cat mewed, a long, low, mournful sound, then bobbed its head as if to say yes. It couldn’t have understood me! Rose’s eyes widened. I’ve seen cats bob their heads like that before—it’s just pure coincidence that this one happened to do it then. Right?

“What do you want?” Rose sat back on her heels. “I’m certainly not going in there, if that’s what you want.”

The cat mewed again, sounding so pleading and sad Rose almost did go into the hole. Almost. But not quite.

“No. I’m not going in,” she declared, looking away from the somber hole. The cat mewed, and kept mewing ceaselessly for a long while. Rose groaned. I’m just going to go back and finish my hike. This is pointless. She stood, turning around in circles. A wave of panic suddenly swept over her as she realized she was lost.

While the cat kept on its sorrowful keening, Rose looked around frantically, wishing she knew which way was the way to safety.

“Stop it!” Rose finally cried. “I’ll go!”

In despair, and wanting the horrible noise coming from the cat to go away, she jumped towards the hole, stumbled, and fell in. Rose fell much farther then she liked, and when she stood up, bruised and scraped, the hole looked far off, letting in the only light she could see. It wasn’t too far, but it was more of an ascent then Rose wanted to climb right now.

Rose looked the other way, into the depressing darkness. The cat crept up to her, twining around Rose’s ankles.

Moving slowly, Rose swung her backpack off her back and dug her flashlight out. She pulled her backpack back on and clicked on the flashlight. It shone out over long stalactites hanging from the roof, water dripping from the bottom onto short—or some tall—stalagmites rising up sharply from the floor. Some stalactites and stalagmites had joined.

Rose shuffled forwards a step, awed by the stunning sight before her, and fell abruptly. Head over heels, she tumbled down, down, down.

Thankfully it wasn’t a straight fall, it was just a very steep, rocky slope.

The flashlight flew out of Rose’s hand and smashed somewhere on a rock, leaving her in complete darkness. Finally she rolled to a stop, and laid there for a long while, curled in a tight ball, trying not to let the hot tears trickle down her scraped cheeks.

Something soft brushed her face. Rose uncurled to find the cat’s tail tickling her. She pushed it away, annoyed. There was a soft, very faint light, and when the cat turned, Rose realized it was coming from the cat’s eyes. Creepy, Rose thought, feeling unnerved.

The cat padded off, and Rose tried to follow it, trying to stay with the only light she had, faint though it was. But the cat vanished again, so completely and so suddenly that Rose lost hope of seeing it again.

She looked up, wondering if maybe she could somehow climb to the top, and saw a tiny pinprick of light from the hole that had seemed so large before.

Rose curled up into a ball again, despair overwhelming her. She was lost, hurt, broken, with no chance of being rescued, or of getting out of this pit of despair—and all because of a cat.

All because she had followed a cat.