There is a cat in the house. I don’t know how it got there or who lured it in by nailing a dead crow to the door and sacrificing a goat but the wretched thing is in the house.
Two nights ago I was powering off the computer at about 11pm and I hear a cat mewing. Grainily. Like it was an old geriatric cat which had lost it’s box of Strepsils. I just assumed the thing was outside. Then the next day, my sister asks me if I was the one who had knocked over a half dozen little bottles full of lotions and things in my parents’ bedroom. I go look at it, and it’s complete carnage. In the half-light of a CFL tube, the contents of the bottles looked like blood, splattered everywhere.
*cue Wolfman title music*
I was also resentful that she’d think me capable of arbitrarily knocking over a bunch of glass objects which are well out of regular reach, and not do anything about it. But anyway,
I came home yesterday and take off my earphones to hear the damned thing mewing again. It’s standing in the stairway, looking at me. I stare back at it. It blinks. My first thought was “fooood”. But then I realized it looked quite skinny. I walk towards it and it flees to the front of the house. So I open the door, and chase it away from the table it is hiding under. It flies right past the door and heads back to the stairway. I chase it down to where the PC is kept and switch on the light, to find it glaring at me from behind two old CRT monitors. The 14″ tubes are dwarfed by the glowing green eyes of the infernal beast. I stare at it again, till sweat goes into my eyes and I have to blink it away. The thing stares at me mockingly.
I charge at it, yelling “DIE VILE HELLSPAWN” and rattle the monitors.
It goes straight back up the stairs, to the exact same place as before, under the table near the door. Again, ignoring the portal to its freedom. So again I go to chase it off and this time it flees up, to the bedrooms. I had by now given up on it ever even noticing the door. So I trudge upstairs, flash a light under a few surfaces and kick at spaces that could potentially conceal a small furry ball of hate. I found nothing.
That night I did not sleep well. Lurking out there in the darkness was a creature so vile it wouldn’t think twice about clawing at my clothes, hung up to dry. Most of the night was spent listening to the crickets throwing about their calls like an Indian call center. But I remember, just as I was about to drift off to sleep, the sound of something scratching at a door.
dun Dun DUNNN!
I seriously do have a cat in here with me. Since chasing it out didn’t work, I shall try to lure it out with milk and cookies. Or babies. Whatever cats think is okay to eat. If it doesn’t show then, it’s either going to starve to death out of stupidity or be kicked out of the house the next time I see it. You’re all welcome to have a crack at coaxing it out.