It had only been a few weeks of living alone in his new place when Shane first noticed a stray black cat hanging around outside his patio. He had always wanted a pet while he was growing up but his parents were strictly against having any animals in the house. The small cat was sadly cute with its scared, bright yellow eyes and fluffy tail. He couldn’t help but take pity and began to feed it a little can of tuna every day. The cat quickly grew familiar with the routine and would run out from under the picnic table to eat and Shane would give it a few pets on the head before leaving it to finish its meal in peace.
One afternoon, the weather forecast predicted severe storms in the area. Shane left work early to stop at the pet store and pick up the basic cat essentials. He had made up his mind that he was going to bring the cat inside for the night and hoped everything would work out well. He didn’t know too much about cats but he liked the feeling of being needed. Plus, he had grown quite fond of the cat's companionship, especially on the days he felt lonely living by himself.
He arrived home and opened the sliding door to the back patio. The wind started to howl as he squatted down and spied the cat cowered underneath the picnic table in its usual hiding place. He opened a can of tuna but this time he set it just inside the door to lure in the frightened creature. Within a few seconds, the cat dashed out from under the table and loudly cried its way inside. It began to devour the food while Shane closed the door and turned the lock. He bent down to pet the cat, like he always had, when it abruptly turned its head and bit the side of his palm.
“HEY!” Shane shouted, as he retracted his hand and immediately began to assess the damage. There was blood coming from the two deep puncture holes where the fangs had sunk in. He didn't want to be upset with the cat so instead he tried to rationalize that the poor thing was probably overstimulated. He hoped it was just a one off occurrence and he resolved that he would try to do better about keeping his distance until the cat came to him. Still, he had a weird nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach as he finished cleaning and dressing the wounds on his hand, that maybe he shouldn’t have let a stray cat inside.
The storm was so severe that night that Shane spent a majority of it sitting on an old yellow couch in the basement. He had set up a covered litter box in the corner by the washer and dryer and put out another can of food hoping the cat would make its way down to safety on its own. He was relieved when he heard it meow as it wandered down the basement stairs. It stopped at the bottom and stared straight at Shane with its yellow eyes before it made a quick bee-line straight for the couch. He thought for half a second that he might get attacked again but the cat simply crawled underneath the couch and started purring. Shane took a deep breath and finally started to relax. He had to admit that it felt nice not being alone during the storm. Soon, the purring beneath him felt almost hypnotic and he was eventually lulled to sleep by the rhythmic vibrations mixed with the sounds of the heavy rain and winds.
Suddenly he was startled awake by weird sounds. He shook his head to gather his bearings and then he quickly recognized it as scratching noises. The basement was so dark he could barely see anything in front of him. He frantically reached around to find his phone and saw that it was already three in the morning. Listening closely for another moment, Shane realized the scratching sound was coming from the corner where he put the litter box. He took a big sigh of relief and then chuckled at himself. The scratching sound resumed as he stood and stretched his body. He was about to begin his phone-lit ascent up the stairs when sitting motionless at the top, with its bright yellow eyes reflecting back, was the cat. Shane froze in his tracks and listened as the sound of the scratching continued behind him in short, three-scratch bursts. Scratch scratch scratch. He took another look up at the cat, with its laser-gaze and stationary body. Scratch scratch scratch. He instantly thought he was dreaming but as the sound persisted, his curiosity got the best of him. With the glow from his flashlight leading his way, he turned from the stairs and gradually walked towards the direction of the noise. Scratch scratch scratch. Scratch scratch scratch. He stopped within a foot of the covered box and bent down low enough to peer inside the hole. Suddenly, a black shadow shot out at his face causing him to tumble backwards. His phone bounced out of his hand and landed facedown as the flashlight slightly illuminated his surroundings. The black cat was sitting right in front of him, squinting in the light. Without breaking eye contact, Shane slowly reached for his phone. The cat turned, sauntered its way back to the couch, and then crawled underneath and started purring. Befuddled and full of adrenaline, Shane rushed out of the basement and headed for the safety of his own bedroom. He tried to convince himself that his tired mind was playing tricks on him, but the fear still made him quick to turn on every light he passed along the way.
The cat stayed underneath the couch for most of the next day. Eventually, it strolled up the stairs and sat transfixed in front of the big sliding glass door. At first, Shane thought the cat was gazing longingly at the yard and felt bad for it. He opened the door as an invitation for it to escape but the cat sat there motionless with absolutely no interest to leave. He realized then that the cat wasn’t looking outside, but rather it was staring strangely at its own reflection in the glass. Shane closed the door but the cat remained unflinched with its eyes intently forward. Only offering a can of tuna was enough to break its eerie trance. It casually turned to the food and began to eat while Shane struggled to ignore that every interaction he had with the cat since he let it inside made him extremely uncomfortable.
That night, Shane had the most restless sleep. He was having terrible nightmares about being chased by big creatures and he woke up drenched in sweat. He rolled over to his nightstand to check the time on his phone, when he was suddenly face to face with a pair of glowing yellow eyes. The cat was sitting on the nightstand staring at him in the pitch black room. It was so unexpected, Shane nearly jumped out of his skin in terror. He sat up to catch his breath and looked back at the cat, who’s entire black coat blended into the dark. Its beaming eyes were like luminous, piercing daggers. Shane didn't know if it was the nightmares or his growing fear towards the cat, but he could have sworn that even in the dark underneath those bright yellow eyes, he saw its long teeth wickedly smile at him.
Shane snuck out early the next morning to run some errands. He never went back to sleep after the cat incident and frankly he was still a little bit terrified. He needed some fresh air and mundane social interaction to set his mind straight. He didn't see the cat before he left, but he put a can of tuna at the top of the stairs and hoped it would be fine alone for a few hours. Shane’s first stop was the post office. He felt almost pacified waiting in the long line as the normality of the everyday world calmed his anxieties. As the line moved along, he was able to read through the flyer-plastered bulletin boards across the walls. Usually he was interested in reading about the local events or sales being advertised when something peculiar caught his eye. Among all the printed flyers was a green piece of paper with a uniquely handwritten message about a missing cat that fit the exact description of the one he had brought in. Underneath the description it read:
“WARNING! DO NOT LET THIS CAT INSIDE! PLEASE RETURN CAT TO 505 OAKBEND LANE FOR REWARD.”
Shane could feel his tongue swell in his throat. Without even thinking, he pushed through the line and snatched the green paper off the board. He quickly ditched the post office and headed straight home. He knew something was wrong with that cat and he needed to get it out of his place and back to whoever wanted it, with or without the reward money.
As he unlocked the front door and stepped inside, the heavy smell of tuna clung to the air and his stomach started to react in hunger. He walked over to see the food that he had left earlier was completely untouched. Shane went down and checked under the couch in the basement but the cat wasn't there. He tore the whole place apart looking for it but despite his best efforts, the cat was nowhere to be found. Feeling tired and defeated, he sat down at the dining room table and pulled the green paper out of his pocket. He didn’t have any other choice but to visit the address, tell them about the cat, and then maybe he'd get some answers. He stood up again to leave but the smell of tuna from the floor near him caught his attention again. The hunger pains from earlier now made him feel ravenous. He unconsciously grabbed the can and shoveled the tuna flakes into his mouth with his fingertips. When he was finished, he licked his fingers and lips as he typed “505 Oakbend Lane” into his phone for directions. The address was North, towards the woods on the outskirts of town, but his energy had quickly returned and he felt like walking there instead. He tossed the empty can on the counter and went out through the sliding back door.
He went the backway through the neighborhoods and made his way down the overgrown road that was Oakbend Lane, until he arrived at a small wooden mailbox with the numbers 505 carved into the side. Behind it was a long, narrow, gravel path that wound around dense trees. Far up in the distance, Shane could make out the frame of a small house by the light of a lantern hanging outside. It was eerily quiet except for the crunching sounds of leaves and tiny rocks under his shoes as he trekked up the path.
As he approached the house, the first thing he noticed was the darkness in the curtainless windows, despite an obvious light source coming from inside. Just glancing at the window panes filled him with an unusual feeling of dread. There was smoke billowing from the tall chimney and a mixed smell of burning wood and sausage filled the air. There was a skinny wicker broomstick hanging over the front door. Little dishes of what looked like syrup and tiny candy lined the entire porch. Shane felt every hair follicle stand on end. The door knocker was made from an old silver metal and was shaped like an ugly ram’s head. He inhaled slowly and summoned his courage as he picked up the handle and knocked twice. After only a few seconds, he heard slow, dragging footsteps creak the old floorboards throughout the house. The footsteps got louder until they stopped just on the other side of the door. Shane felt his stomach tighten as the door squeaked open, revealing an elderly woman dressed in colorful flowing fabric. Her face looked worn but her smile was refreshing. She was a short, pudgy, woman, with braided gray hair that cascaded down her whole body. Shane stood in awe and then autonomously retrieved the folded green paper from his pocket and handed it to the woman. She paused to observe the bandages on his hand but before he could explain, she took the paper from him and slipped it into her bosom while shushing him.
“Would you like to come inside for a warm glass of milk?” she asked. Her voice was breathy and soft, and it felt very soothing. Shane couldn’t explain it, but nothing sounded as delicious as a warm glass of milk at that very moment. He nodded in response as the old woman took a step back and welcomed him into the house. He walked through the doorway into what felt like an unearthly dream. There was a black cauldron in the fireplace churning out plumes of smoke. The walls were concealed by racks filled with jars of various substances. Dead flowers and herbs hung from the rafters. A creepy looking antique mirror was propped up against a bookshelf crammed with large dusty books. He was desperately trying to comprehend where he was and struggling more to remember why he was even there.
“The black cat,” he muttered as the old woman handed him a warm, small, brown mug. “I let the black cat inside but now I can’t find it anywhere.”
“Oh dear,” she replied calmly.
“Please, I need to know why I shouldn't have let it inside." Shane pleaded. The woman gently shushed him again and began to stroke his dark black hair. Shane felt instantly comforted by this and took a small sip from the mug.
“What’s done is done,” she said, as she continued to caress his head.
He took another drink from the mug and then another. The next thing he knew, he was lapping up the milk. He felt perfectly relaxed as the warmth permeated through his body. When he finished, he closed his eyes and when he opened them again, the old woman was a grinning tower above him. Shane immediately felt different and his hearing and eyesight felt sharper than ever as he glanced around the room. He looked into the patina covered mirror leaning long against the shelf and he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He was no longer himself but instead a small black cat with yellow eyes and a fluffy tail. He stared at his reflection completely entranced with disbelief when he heard the high pitched squeak of the front door opening. The old woman smiled again and without missing a beat, Shane instinctively bolted out the door and headed straight home. He sprinted through the woods, cut through backyards until he reached the comfort of his own patio.
He cautiously walked up to his sliding glass door and when he looked inside he saw a strange man sitting at the dining room table, eating from what looked like a can of tuna. When the man noticed Shane outside, he stood unusually slow, his body firm with perfect posture. He actually looked a little bit like Shane, with a small, lean build and dark-black hair. Except this man’s ears came to a noticeably weird point. He slowly glided towards the back door and reached for the handle. Shane readied himself to sneak inside but instead heard the click sound of the lock latching shut. The man peered down at Shane through the glass and gave him the most frightening smile, showing off a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth and two enormous fangs. It was a terrifyingly familiar smile and Shane’s little body trembled with fear as he backed away from the door. He hid underneath the large picnic table and as the cold wind blew around him, he waited.
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