The Weekly Tot

Ello children! You haven't gotten a post since the 'Creep-mail' flurry from AG, so today I will continue the theme of creeps.

As you do not know, I am conducting an investigation into the genre of horror. Expect attempts at chilling stories- or at the very least slightly concerning stories.

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What’s that in your mouth, Kitty?

“We’ll be right back, okay?” Mrs. Wilson insisted.

“Remember, don’t open the door, since we have the key.” Mr. Wilson said.

“I’ll be fine. It’s just for an hour.” Rachel Wilson replied.

“Oh dear, are you sure we should leave her here?” Mrs. Wilson asked, worried.

“Seriously. Just go. I’m not sure your coworkers would appreciate me being at your dinner party.” Rachel said, prodding her mother.

“Alright. We’ll be back in an hour or two, you and Kitty take care of each other.” Mr. Wilson said, bending down to kiss Kitty’s soft, furry head. The cat purred, brushing against their ankles in farewell, before hopping into Rue’s arms. Mrs. Wilson let out a final sigh, and they left the house. Rachel heard the click-clack-creak of the rusty old lock, and stretched out. Kitty looked at her expectantly.

“Awww. Poor Kitty. You’ve already had your fill of treats for today. Tomorrow, we’ll get you some nice boiled salmon.” Rachel promised. Kitty mewled sadly, and trotted upstairs. Rachel went up after her. “Alright Kitty, be a good cat and play with your mouse. I’m just going to do my homework.” Rachel threw the small stuffed mouse towards the cat, and Kitty ran off to play. She focused on the math until she heard a click-clack-creak.

“Kitty, don’t jump on the kitchen counter please.” she called, hoping her cat wasn’t up to trouble. Then some more odd noises, a clatter, like metal hitting the living room tile, and a mew.

“Kitty, be quiet please. Bothering me isn’t going to get you that treat.” Rachel yelled. She heard soft padded footsteps and Kitty came up, something small, white and round in her mouth.

“What’s that in your mouth, Kitty? I thought your white mouse broke?” Rachel asked, turning away from her desk with an exasperated sigh. She would never get her homework done. Kitty spat the object out of her mouth, looking pleased with her offering. Rachel examined it. It looked like a small white ball, just a little smaller than a ping-pong ball. Red cracks ran over it. Rachel touched it, and flinched when she felt the slimy wetness. She turned it over slowly, bracingly, a fresh wave of nausea coming over her. An bright blue eye stared back at her, fresh blood oozing over it. A human eye. Rachel looked at Kitty, her hand instantly going to her face, but her own eyes were intact. Of course they were. Kitty mewed softly, head butting her face.

Then it dawned on her.

She was home alone.

There was a groan from downstairs, and Rachel froze. They waited, until the scrape-slide, scrape-slide against the living room floor turned into the click-clack-creak of the rusty old lock. Kitty looked at her expectantly.

“I think you can have that treat now, Kitty.”

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I think there might be some bloodstains in the living room.

Today I was inspired by the terrifying monsters we call cats. Who would be so unwise as to let a demon into their living space? Yet these possessive, tempermental demons are quite protective of their own belongings (including their human servants).

How many times have I seen my own little furry tyrant wander around eating some random thing he shouldn't be eating. It's a tiresome ordeal, scolding the obnoxious child when they inevitably attempt to swall a hairball or such. It would be interesting if the thing in their mouths ended up being much worse than a hairball...

Lastly, I don't doubt a cat's ability to utilize it's long, sharp claws. They can certainly draw blood, and if they went all out, I'm certain they could take down an unwelcome intruder. Whether they would deign to do so is a different story.